


Winged Dancer

by MamaPanda93



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Broken Daryl, Confusion, Crying, Dancing, Depression, Drinking, Drug Use, Drugs, Forced Work, Gentle Kissing, Hurt Daryl, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Kidnapping, M/M, Merle is evil, More tags will be added later on, Panic Attacks, Protective Rick, Rickyl, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Swearing, underground club, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:17:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaPanda93/pseuds/MamaPanda93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick is assigned to look for the infamous drug smuggler, Merle Dixon. who owns a underground club.</p><p>While there Rick finds more than he  bargained for. He meets Merle’s younger brother, Daryl Dixon. A mysterious, good looking young man forced to dance and work there.</p><p>Can Rick save him from the Hell he learned to call home?</p><p>One thing for sure, Hell is no place for a angel.</p><p> </p><p>~~COMPLETE~~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters, I only write for entertainment.
> 
> I imagine Daryl’s costume wings to be very expensive looking and soft/fluffy! With a hint of sparkles!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Rick Grimes sits quietly in his dark vehicle, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel trying to regain his breathing.

 

Just over ten feet away is the underground club he’s been assigned to check out.

 

It took him many months to find this place and getting in is even harder. 

 

Finding the password wasn’t a easy job. He doesn’t blame people for not sharing the code, since inside is the owner and drug smuggler. His crew and him are hiding, knowing very well of their warrant of arrest.

 

So Rick’s only job here is to find the guy and get out safely to report it. He decided not to ask for back up, thinking he had this under control, or so he thought.

 

With the full moon high up in the sky, Rick emerges out of his car clad in his worn out black leather jacket and his favourite dark jeans. He decides last minute to leave his gun in the glove box just incase.

 

Walking away from the safety of his vehicle, he quietly joins behind the line. There is only a few people waiting, so he stands there patiently listening to the loud bass of the music hitting the doors behind the bouncer.

 

The line moves quickly and before he knows it it is his turn. Taking a deep breath, knowing he can’t go back now. He straightens up and looks straight at the large bouncer blocking the heavy looking door.

 

The bouncer eyes him up and down, not saying a word. Rick starts to get nervous, but plays it cool as he leans in closer for only the bouncer to hear.

 

“Halo...”

 

He whispers.

 

One word, one damn word.

 

Nodding, the bouncer steps back and  
opens the door for him to pass.

 

Rick nods as the door shuts tightly behind him. After his eyes adjust to the darkness he finds himself in a dingy hallway full of people smoking, doing drugs, and or making out.

 

He shrugs off the strange looks as he pops his jacket collar, instinctually following the sound of loud music thumping from a room nearby.

 

Eventually he is welcomed to a large open area, heavy smoke lingering in the air. Lights flashing with the music and tons of people either at the bar or on the dance floor.

 

“This is going to be a long night...” 

 

Rick sighs to himself as he adjusts his jacket collar again, wishing now that he left it in the car.

 

Just when he is about to head to the bar, the tempo of the music slows down and the flashing on the stage cease. Causing some people sitting down near the stage to start cheering.

 

Stopping in his tracts, curiosity as of why they are cheering at nothing until one single light shines up on the stage and a male silhouette with large wings emerges from behind the curtains. Standing with his back to the light, causing his face and body to be hidden within the shadows.

 

The tempo picks up and Rick can’t help himself as he watches the shadowed figure sway their hips back and forth to the music hypnotically.

 

As the tempo picks up stronger and the lights become faster strobes, the dancer follows the beat perfectly. His incredible body swaying as he lets the music take him away.

 

Rick gets so caught up with watching the dancer, he has forgotten what he is suppose to be doing there in the first place until the music changes and the dancer disappears behind the curtain again.

 

He lets out a heavy sign as he swallows a big lump in his throat, now just noticing how tight his pants have become.

 

Shifting around uncomfortably he decides he needs a drink to drown out the odd desires he is getting about the male dancer, so he walks towards the crowded bar.

 

Once there, he somehow manages to squeeze in to order something.

 

“Rum on ice.”

Rick shouts over the music to the pretty brunette bartender.

 

She smiles, nods, and goes on with her job. While she is busy making his drink, Rick thinks about asking her who is the mysterious dancer.

 

“Here you go, handsome. Rum on ice!”

 

She winks as she slides the drink in front of him.

 

Just as she tries to walk off, Rick speaks up.

 

“Wait!”

 

Rick shouts before she can get too far from ear shot.

 

The bartender turns on her heels and stalks back over to him with a big grin on her face.

 

“What else can I get you?”

 

She flashes him her best smile as she leans against the bar top to get closer.

 

Rick is flattered, but he has a job to do. Clearing his throat, he leans in closer to her as well, and that is when he sees her necklace with the name "Maggie" on it.

 

“Uh... Maggie is it? Thanks for the drink, but I uh was just wondering who that dancer was with the wings?”

 

Her smile disappears for one quick second and then comes back as she chuckles lightly, shaking her head. Like she has been asked this many times before.

 

“That’s my baby brother!”

 

Slurs a man slumped over in the stool beside Rick. Startled and caught off guard, Rick takes a glance at the guy and has to do a double take before he realizes something.

 

The man that answered his question is the infamous drug lord he’s been looking for, Merle Dixon. He fits the description and mug shots to a tee. Bald, angry looking eyes, and a lion tattoo on his neck.

 

Rick takes a deep breath and sits in the stool beside him. Instantly on edge, but plays it cool.

 

“Pardon? Did you just say that was your brother?”

 

Rick asks as he takes a drink from his glass, hoping it will kill some if his nerves.

 

One wrong move and he could be dead, he is in their territory now.

 

The bald man takes a big swig from his glass and slams it onto the table as he burps. He doesn’t even have to say a word or gesture to the bartenders, because Maggie is there within a second with another drink.

 

“Thanks, Sugartits! Remind me to pay ya' extra tonight!”

 

He hiccups and tries to wink, which fails miserably. Obviously had way too much to drink and God knows what else running through his blood.

 

Rick looks at Maggie just in time to see her cringe at the nickname before she turns around sharply, hurrying off to serve others.

 

The music is so loud, but Rick’s ears seem to have gotten used to it. He glances back at the stage and sees three naked women dancing, but none have the same affect on him like the winged dancer.

 

“Why, who’s askin'?”

 

Merle questions as he looks Rick up and down.

 

Taking another drink Rick ponders what he should say next, but he doesn’t have to, Merle speaks again.

 

“Ya' want him?” 

 

Rick almost chokes on his drink at the odd question, causing Merle to chuckle.

 

“Wh-what! Why would I want him!?”

 

Rick’s voice cracks a bit, which he blames on the booze.

 

Merle chuckles again, but much deeper, looking at Rick’s wild eyes like he’s a deer stuck in headlights.

 

“Pfft! I’m only messin' with ya'! Everyone here wants my little brother, he is the main attraction here! Makes me tons of money!”

 

Merle slurs proudly as he grins strangely at Rick, before taking a large gulp to finish his drink.

 

Rick’s stomach twists, but he takes another drink as well. He jumps a bit when Merle slams down his empty glass and watches as Maggie brings him another one like before, but instead of talking to her, Merle turns to Rick.

 

“Ya' seem like a fun guy, want to join me in my V.I.P. room and have a few drinks? Hell, ya' might even meet my little brother as well...”

 

Merle winks and stares Rick down intensely.

 

He is shocked of how welcoming this man is, but realizes he must be too shit faced to think things through.

 

Rick doesn’t know what to say, he has all the info he needs, but if he does go with him, he might see other drug dealers they’re looking for as well.

 

That would look well on Rick if he found more than one guy and it wouldn’t hurt meeting the mysterious dancer either.

 

“Yeah, why the fuck not!”

 

Smiling the best he can, Rick downs the rest of his drink before he stands up from the uncomfortable bar stool.

 

Merle grins drunkly back and leads the way through the crowd of people.

 

Rick straightens his collar nervously, still regretting not leaving it in the car as he follows a staggering Merle to the V.I.P.

 

Down a few dirty hallways and watching awkwardly as Merle almost trips a few times along the way.

 

Finally outside a door Rick assumes is the V.I.P. Merle nods to the bouncer guarding the entrance, leaning to whisper something into his ear.

 

Rick stands there starting to think this is a bad idea, but before he can make a excuse to leave, Merle waves for him to come into the room.

 

Following behind again, he is met with a dimly lit room with a large, black leather couch. Which has a man sitting on it and one of the female dancers from earlier resting on his lap. Merle pats the man on the shoulder and then slumps into the couch beside them.

 

Rick doesn’t know what to do until Merle slaps the spot beside him. So he sits down and tries not to look at the large bag of weed, a few lines of coke, and a mixture of colourful pills on the stained oak table in front of him.

 

Suddenly a young petite blonde comes walking into the room, only clad in a tiny black dress which would show her ass if she bent over.

 

“Want another drink?”

 

Merle questions, shaking Rick out of his daze.

 

He just finished his drink at the bar not too long ago and is about to say no, until he realizes it might look strange if he doesn’t order another.

 

“Um, yeah sure I’ll have a rum on ice.”

 

Rick says causally. Happy that the music isn’t loud in this room, so he doesn’t have to yell.

 

Merle nods as puts up two fingers for her and just like that, she turns to leave the room.

 

He cannot believe the power Merle has over everyone who works here for him, just the snap of a finger and everyone jumps.

 

“Smoke?”

 

Merle asks drunkly as pulls out a pack of smokes from his pocket and waits for Rick to reply.

 

He silently replies with pulling out his own pack from his jacket.

 

Chuckling a bit, Merle puts a smoke in his mouth as he pulls out a zippo to light it. That is when Rick realizes he has forgotten his own lighter in the car.

 

“Here.”

 

Noticing, Merle holds out the lighter waiting for Rick to light his own smoke.

 

“Thanks.” Rick says as he takes a big haul from his cigarette.

 

Looking around the room and at the drugs on the table in front of him, Merle sees this as he exhales the smoke through his nose.

“Want some?”

Merle smirks as he looks at him.

 

Rick doesn’t know what to say, it might look odd if he denies drugs here, but he doesn’t want to have any because of obvious reasons. One being he can lose his job when they do random drug tests at the police station.

 

He is about to response, but the door swings open, causing Rick to look up.

 

That’s when he sees him.

 

Messy brown, soft medium length hair, piercing blue eyes, a beauty mark above his lip, and a body of a God to match. He is clad in a white faded tank top and tight ripped blue jeans.

 

Rick can’t help licking his lips watching the man like a hawk as he noticeably sits furthest away from Merle.

 

“Hey there, little brother! Makin' me tons of money tonight?”

 

Merle perks up and takes a line of coke off the table, while Rick pretends to not have seen it.

 

The dancer scoffs as he relaxes into the couch, not looking at anyone as he begins to pick at his finger nails.

 

It finally clues in for Rick, this must be the mysterious dancer. Suddenly finding it hard to breathe, but he can’t figure out why. He puts out his smoke in the astray after realizing he let it burn out without even hardly smoking it, he hopes nobody else noticed.

 

The others in the room must have left when the mysterious dancer came in because Rick didn’t even see them leave.

 

The pretty blonde from earlier comes rushing in suddenly and starts serving Merle and Rick their drinks.

 

“Thanks...” 

 

Rick smiles to the girl, accepting his drink.

 

Merle on the other hand grabs his drink rudely before he smacks the girl on the ass as she walks away timidly.

 

Secretly she glares at him over her shoulder as she quickly stalks out of the room, Merle doesn’t notice as he takes a big gulp of his drink.

 

“Come closer to big brother, Merle and give me some sugar!”

 

Merle slurs as he looks towards Daryl with his arms stretched out wide.

 

“Fuck off! I’m only in here because I got nowhere else to go! Everywhere I go someone bothers me!”

 

The dancer growls as he stares daggers at his drunk brother.

 

Rick sits there quietly not knowing if he should stay or go, but takes another drink to try to help calm his nerves.

 

“That’s because you’re so damn sexy, Darylenna! Dancin' up there, makin' me tons of money!”

 

Merle grins wickedly, then turns to look at Rick beside him on the couch.

 

“Oh, shit! I didn’t get your name!”

 

Merle stares blankly, waiting for a reply.

 

Rick awkwardly swallows the liquid in his mouth at the unexpected question.

 

“Rick, Rick Valentine...”

 

He says casually, using his undercover last name like it was his giving name at birth.

 

“Well Rick, I’m Merle and this pretty thing over here is Darylenna!”

 

Merle looks over at his brother with a big shit eating grin. At this, the dancer looks away and gives his brother the finger.

 

“It’s Daryl!”

 

The dancer snarls under his breath as he pulls out his own smokes and lighter from his jeans pockets.

 

While jabbing a cheap smoke into his mouth and lighting it with ease, Rick can’t help watching.

 

“Beth!”

 

Merle shouts, making Daryl jump slightly. Rick notices this and frowns deeply. He has seen many cases of abuse and the tell tale signs of it.

 

A few minutes pass and the girl in the small black dress hurriedly strides in through the door again.

 

“Get somethin' for Daryl here will ya'!”

Merle demands her, waving his hand cockily in the air.

 

She hurriedly stares at Daryl, awaiting a order like her life depended on it. This made Rick’s heart break a little bit more for all the workers here.

 

“Umm, water would be great please.”

 

Glaring at Merle, Daryl quietly requests to the girl. Flicking his ash into the overflowing ashtray on the table. She nods and as she’s about to turn away, Merle speaks up boldly.

 

“That won’t do, get him my special!”

 

He winks at her and she nods again, leaving the room in fast strides.

 

Daryl decides not to fight with his brother, so he says nothing about the order. Only shakes his head in disagreement as he smokes his cigarette in quiet.

 

They sit there in complete silence as Merle starts to roll up a joint, failing miserably in his drunken state.

 

When he is finally done, Beth comes back in with a shot glass of something. She quickly puts it onto the table in front of Daryl and leaves the room without saying a word.

 

A few minutes go by and it is still sits there untouched.

 

“Rick, how about $150.00 for a hour long private dance with Darylenna over here?”

 

Merle causally offers within the silence, turning towards him, causing Rick to almost choke on his drink the second time that night.

 

Rick first glances at Daryl and he sees the other glaring hard at his brother.

 

“How about the whole night for $500.00?”

 

Reacting quickly, Rick slyly offers. Almost making him sick to the stomach when he feels Daryl’s blue eyes glaring at him darkly.

 

Merle chuckles in agreement as he pats Rick on the back. Only thinking of one thing.

 

Money.

 

The dancer instantly fumes in anger, not liking that he has just been sold. 

 

Shooting up straight up quickly from his seat, his face red and heavily breathing through his nose.

 

“Fuck you, Merle! I didn’t sign up for the dancing here and I won’t sign up for private dances either!”

 

Daryl stares daggers at his brother as he stands his ground.

 

If looks could kill Rick thinks to himself.

 

“Daryl, ya' do what I fucking say! Sit back down!”

 

Slamming down his glass, Merle raises his voice and instantly like a scared puppy, Daryl sits down, hanging his head as he hides his eyes behind fallen bangs of brown hair.

 

Rick feels terrible as he pulls out his wallet, handing the money to Merle was the hardest thing to do as Daryl sits there helplessly, knowing what’s to come next.

 

Merle takes it eagerly and counts it within seconds, nodding when he’s satisfied with the amount in his grimy hands.

 

“Alright, he’s yours all night!”

 

Winking at him, Rick can’t help feeling a little sick and light headed. As he stands up from the couch, he looks towards Daryl, who hasn’t moved a inch since he was yelled at.

 

“Daryl! Get the fuck up and take this nice paying customer to your room! Ya’ got a long night ahead of you!”

 

Merle shouts louder than before, causing him to jump and scramble to his feet.

 

Before he hesitantly leaves the room, he takes one last shaky haul of his smoke, puts it out, and downs the shot glass in front of him before slamming it onto the table in frustration.

 

Both Rick and him miss Merle’s evil grin.

 

Rick follows quietly behind the dancer as he takes him down a dim hallway full of shut doors, all numbered.

 

He can hear all the moans and screaming coming from each room and can’t help wonder if the screams are from pleasure, from pain, or both.

 

Rick gets pulled out of his thoughts when Daryl stops in front of a unnumbered door at the far end of the hall and unlocks it. He walks inside first and then Rick follows suit.

 

A tiny table with a broken lamp, a worn out dresser, and a very uncomfortable looking bed sit inside the room.

 

Rick instantly gets sad thinking Daryl has to live like this, he seems like he doesn’t deserve this or wants to even be here.

 

Being held down and controlled by Merle, that’s what Rick has gotten out of just being around the two brothers for a short amount of time.

 

Jolting him out of his thoughts, the door shuts behind him and Rick just stands there awkwardly in the middle of the room.

 

“Get comfortable on the bed if you want...”

 

Daryl softly says as he chews on his thumb, but Rick doesn’t move, he just continues standing there.

 

“Did you hear me?”

 

Daryl asks, noticeably getting frustrated.

 

“Daryl... this may be a strange, but do you really want to live like this?”

 

Rick turns to look at him and instantly regrets the way he worded it.

 

Daryl’s eyes are big and anger as he glares hard at Rick.

 

Not knowing what to say, he shoves Rick. Causing him to stumble back a bit, but catches himself before he falls onto the bed.

 

“You don’t know me! You don’t know why I’m here! You don’t no fuck all! Nothing!”

 

Daryl raises his voice in defence, fists balled up, and glaring even harder at Rick than before.

 

“What I meant was... you seem like a nice guy and don’t deserve this. I can help you! I can get you away from here! That’s why I paid for a night, so I can get you out of here or at least let you rest and I’ll leave...”

 

Mumbling, Rick doesn’t know what he’s saying is any good, but it feels right. That’s all he knows.

 

As a police officer, he feels a big responsibility to help people in need, and he feels like Daryl needs his help.

 

“...I...” Daryl tries to speak, but it comes out a choked sob instead. He hides his face in his hands and begins to shake uncontrollably.

 

Rick wants to reach out, but knows that probably won’t help matters.

 

He looks like a hurt puppy and Rick knows not to sneak up and touch people like that, not knowing how they’ll react.

 

Daryl mumbles something, but Rick can’t understand as he is talking into his hands.

 

Rick moves in closer to try and listen to the younger mans words.

 

“Can’t leave... brother will kill me... nowhere to go... can’t ever leave...”

 

Daryl whimpers as he tries his best to compose himself, wiping roughly away at the tears on his face that won’t stop falling.

 

“Daryl... I can help you, I can get you away from here. You’re brother will never find you or hurt you! Trust me, I’ll keep you safe!”

 

Rick gently reassures, trying to make eye contact with the other man, but Daryl starts to sway back and forth unexpectedly.

 

“Don’t feel right...”

 

Daryl mumbles as he wipes his hair out of his face, trying to regain his balance. He stumbles a bit and before he hits the ground, he feels strong hands grab his sides, pulling him in close.

 

Daryl reaches out and grabs hold of Rick’s arms and before he lets the darkness consume him, he whispers into Rick’s neck.

 

“...Please..”

 

Rick holds on tighter as the young man goes limp in his arms.

 

Merle must of drugged him with that drink he gave him.

 

He is furious, but calms himself as lays Daryl down onto the bed while thinking of the next steps to take to get Daryl and him out of there safely and unnoticed.


	2. Flight or Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is how Daryl became enslaved by his brother, how he deals with the pain, and his thoughts when he first meets Rick.
> 
> *warning, mentioning of drugs and kidnapping.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished editing this chapter! Enjoy!

It is a chilly October evening, leaves fall around Daryl as he walks down the quiet street to get to his house, well his shitty ass trailer that he shares with his asshole alcoholic father.

 

Despite his father’s beatings, it is better without his druggie older brother there too. He hasn’t seen or heard from Merle in about three months now and wouldn’t doubt if he is dead or somewhere in the bush  
binge drinking and God knows what else.

 

Daryl at the young age of sixteen has been cursed with good looks. He has his mother’s bright blue eyes eyes and lips, full and pink with a perfect sharp jawline.

 

Growing up poor, he only owns ripped and second hand clothes, clothes that are a size too large and hang loosely around his small figure. He also doesn’t have much muscle, but he has enough to help defend himself at high school from bullies.

 

Despite all efforts, he leaves the school today sporting a new black eye, thanks to one of the many assholes there.

 

He kicks a rock along the sidewalk in frustration and lets out a heavy sign.

 

Daryl has been abused his whole life from his alcoholic father and brother, his mother died when he just turned nine. Burnt down with the house, so now he lives in a freezing cold trailer on the wrong side of town.

 

He decides half down the street to take the short cut, hoping to be home before his father. Doesn’t want him to see his new shiner, knows he will see it as weakness and give him a even worse beating. Knows that it will happen because it has happened way too many times before.

 

So he hurries down a alley that stinks like garbage and musty mattresses. A black cat with wide yellow eyes jumps out from behind one of the rusting garbage cans and darts out the other end of the alley, almost giving Daryl a heart attack.

 

Half way out of the alley he hears tires screeching loudly to a halt. He whips his head up, greasy brown hair falling into his eyes as he looks towards the loud noise.

 

Wiping his hair away, he sees a off white blur and soon realizes it’s a big white van.

 

His heart stops instantly and so does his feet, standing and waiting for the van to leave. He has a very off feeling about it.

 

But the sketchy van doesn’t move and two tall men step out the back, smiling wickedly at Daryl down the alley.

 

His stomach turns upside down and knows what is happening and knows he has to think fast. 

 

Fight or flight.

 

Daryl knows he can’t take on the two men, wearing black faded t-shirts  
and dirty jeans. Only thing different about them is their hair, one man is blonde and the other has thinning black hair.

 

Their eyes flicker darkly as Daryl stares at them, causing his brain to kick into action.

 

Flight.

 

He spins quickly on his heels and tries to run the way he came from, but runs into something sturdy causing him to stumble back and when he finally has his footing, he looks up to see what he has run into. 

 

Phillip Blake, Merle’s best friend before Daryl was even born. Never liked the guy, always gave him the creeps whenever he was around.

 

Daryl almost throws up from the sudden fear that rushes through his veins.

 

He has had a crush on Daryl since he turned fifteen, even though he was many years younger than him. Always trying to touch him or pin him in a corner when drunk or high with Merle. Daryl gets in a few good hits most of the time, so he is proud of that.

 

Phillip is wearing a blue long sleeve shirt, black jeans and the stupid smug smile that Daryl always wants to punch off his face.

 

Daryl is about to say something, but big arms reach around and pin him where he stands. Suddenly adrenaline courses through his body and his pupils dilate in fear.

 

Fight.

 

He goes into caged animal mode, thrashing around trying to get loose.

 

Feeling so sick to his stomach being held and pushed up against a man’s chest like this. He can’t breathe, but a strange smelling cloth falling onto his face could be to blame.

 

He fights until he feels his body go limp and everything around him goes black. The last thing he sees is that stupid smile and then the dirty alley floor.

 

In and out of consciences, he doesn’t remember much of what happens next, but he does remember something bounding his mouth shut and hands touching him all over, invading his personal space.

 

Then the feeling of being thrown into the back of a vehicle and the cold floor pressing against his stomach as he lays there. Daryl wants to fight back, but he can’t. His hands are tightly tied behind his back with rope, leaving him with painful rope burn as he tugs at the bounding.

 

In and out of grogginess he tries his best to look at his surroundings, but quickly his head gets heavy and he has to rest.

 

Daryl doesn’t know if he passed out or not, but realizes he must have because he is no longer in a vehicle.

 

He frantically looks down and is happy he still has his clothes on, expect his shoes.

 

But the happiness quickly fades as it registers to him that he’s been kidnapped and is tied to a metal chair.

 

Daryl starts to breathe heavily and his heart starts pounding wildly.

 

To top things off, he has a killer headache and every movement he makes sends hot pain everywhere.

 

Daryl Dixon isn’t a quitter though, he always fights back. Minus with his father or Merle, knows he’d never win against them.

 

So he starts pulling, tugging, and wiggling. Trying so hard to get the rope loose enough, but it’s no use.

 

Just like his muffles.

 

He is screaming threats and warnings, but what comes out are muffled words instead. Biting and chewing the musty cloth that is in his mouth, but that doesn’t help either.

 

Then a big heavy door opens, causing his head to shoot up. Which he regrets right away, as he vomits a little in his mouth from the intense pain.

 

Distracted by the bile in his mouth, he doesn’t see who comes into the room.

 

Leaning over the best he can tied down he fights with trying to swallow the bile, but large hands come into view and before he can pull away, the hands remove the gag.

 

Daryl wants to swear and yell at the fucker who has done this to him, but he just throws up instead.

 

Finally after all the heaving and coughing the capture speaks, causing Daryl to freeze when he hears his voice.

 

“Let it all out, baby brother!”

 

Daryl looks up slowly this time and is greeted by his older brother, Merle Dixon’s ugly smug grin.

 

“Fuck you, Merle! Untie me right now! You son of a bitch!”

 

Daryl yells as he tries his best to look and sound threatening, but the vomiting made his eyes moist and throat all hoarse. 

 

“Hey, that’s not how ya’ talk to your older brother! Ol’ Merle here loves ya’!”

 

He chuckles as he throws a heavy arm around Daryl, trying to be all buddy-buddy, like nothing happened.

 

“And drugging and kidnapping your younger brother is?”

 

Daryl snaps, but before he can take it back a hand comes up and punches him, hard.

 

“Ya’ listen to me now young boy! A few buddies and I opened a underground club here underneath the city.”

 

Merle mumbles angrily, causing Daryl to have a hard time with keeping up due to the punch.

 

“I’v decided I need some workers, some dancers...”

 

Merle’s mood changes instantly and grins wickedly as he puts a hand to Daryl’s chin, forcing him to look up at him.

 

“Someone with a pretty face and body!”

 

He mumbles, squeezing Daryl’s chin roughly. Daryl tries to pull away, but Merle shoves his head back, causing it to whack off the chair with a loud thud.

 

Daryl glares hard at his older brother and spits at him. Which he quickly regrets because Merle grabs him by the throat and pulls him in close.

 

“I fucking saved ya’ from dad’s beatings and this is how ya’ repay me, boy?”

 

He growls and tightens his grip, not caring that Daryl’s face is slowly turning red.

 

“So in return ya work for me and make me money... we clear?”

 

Merle looks at his brother and slightly loosens his grip so he can speak.

 

“I’ll never wo-work for you!”

 

Daryl chokes out as he tries to catch his breath, he’d rather die right then and there than work for his insane brother.

 

Merle is about to squeeze at his neck again, but instead he lets out a low whistle and the door suddenly opens.

 

Daryl struggles to see who has come into the room and fear comes rushing through his veins again as he watches Phillip step out of the darkness and closer with something in his hand, hiding it behind his back as he wears that sick grin Daryl hates with a passion.

 

In panic mode, Daryl frantically claws at the ropes, his finger nails breaking and bleeding as he tries to get free.

 

“Whoa, calm down sweetheart!”

 

Phillip smirks as he walks up and stands beside Merle.

 

Daryl doesn’t trust this man with his life, never have and never will.

 

As he looks up through his messy bangs, he sees his brother smiling down on him like a demon and then nods to Phillip.

 

“Don’t fight this, Daryl... you’re mine now and will listen to every word I say.”

 

Merle says matter of factly and before Daryl can yell, a cloth is shoved into his mouth again.

That’s when he sees it, the thing Phillip has hidden behind his back is a syringe.

 

Despite being tied up, Daryl tries his best to fight, but the needle gets jabbed into his arm without his control, then suddenly everything goes black.

 

Once he wakes up, Daryl gets the shock of a lifetime. The shitty life he used to know is no longer there and a even shittier life takes over.

 

He is now trapped and slaved to work in the underground club.

 

Always fighting and talking back to Merle and everyone else working there every chance he gets, but the beatings get worse as time goes on causing him to eventually give up and accept his new life.

 

After so many failed attempts to escape, Daryl isn’t aloud to go outside without a chaperon by his side at all times.

 

At one point he doesn’t see the outside world for 2 whole months, because no one wants to take him anywhere. 

 

Then the stage is built and everything becomes much more worse for him.

 

Daryl hates people staring at him and the idea of dancing for people makes him physically sick, so he begins fighting and arguing again, but that doesn’t last for long.

 

He is forcibly drugged and pushed onto the stage. After embarrassing himself many times, he gives in and dances the best he can.

 

Which isn’t bad because of the money that is thrown on the stage and Merle’s proud grin the next day.

 

But the drugs don’t stop after he stops fighting, instead he starts doing them himself.

 

They help numb him and the uncomfortableness he feels when strangers gawk at him hungrily.

 

After a while of good behaviour, Daryl begs Merle to change the lighting on the stage so that the light shines directly behind him instead of in front of him.

 

Merle hesitates and obviously says no and Daryl sighs heavily.

 

“Dad might have reported me missing and if I’m hidden better, then less likely anyone will recognize me.”

 

Daryl lies to Merle, knowing their dad doesn’t give two shits about him, but Merle just might be high enough to believe it.

 

“Only on one condition though, I got many people calling ya’ a angel... so I got ya’ these.”

 

Merle smirks as he pulls out a large pair of costume wings for adults out of a bag out from under his desk, but not the cheap kind.

 

They are white and fluffy, with tons of sparkles. Daryl groans and shakes his head, which earns him a whack across the face.

 

“Ya’ do what I say, boy!”

 

Merle growls, his sudden switch in mood reminds Daryl of their father when he did cocaine.

 

So he agrees to the terms and after a while of wearing them, he secretly falls in love with them and they slowly become who he is.

 

Well the new him at least, the old Daryl doesn’t exist anymore.

 

Eventually he forgets what life is like outside the club and who he was before all the drugs, alcohol, and dancing.

\---

Five Years Later...

Daryl undoubtedly grew into a handsome twenty one year old man, but his good looks only cause him more heartache and turmoil.

 

Music is his only escape and sadly drugs and alcohol are too.

 

Daryl is a drinker, heavy weed smoker, a on and off cocaine user, and a morphine popper because living in a underground club with drug dealers is Hell and any fix, is a good fix.

 

Meth, cocaine, weed, kush, perks, morphine, molly, and anything else that will get you high, they have it.

 

Daryl has experimented with many other drugs, but has had too many bad reactions so he sticks to what makes him feel better.

 

Which most of the time he is high out of his tree, it’s the only thing that helps with the reality of the shitty cards he has been dealt in life.

 

Eventually he loses all hope of escaping and stops going outside all together.

 

It is hard enough being caged like a animal, but tasting freedom and getting dragged back inside the cage is torture and chips at his soul every time.

 

When things get really hard to handle, he gets right fucked up and drinks so much until he passes out, praying it kills him.

 

Daryl has been planning suicide for the last month now and the night he plans on ending it all he meets a mysterious dark curly haired man in the V.I.P.

 

Then the thoughts of suicide fade when the man’s eyes fall on him and don’t leave him.

 

Which Daryl finds strange because he hates when people stare at him, but the look in the man’s eyes are different. Instead of lust and hunger, they read something else.

 

Something that makes him feel oddly safe and cared about.

 

Making Daryl wonder if this man, Rick is the one that saves him from this Hell he has learned to call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xoxo


	3. The Kind Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl wakes up to his new life, but how will he cope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can’t sleep, so enjoy the new chapter! 
> 
> *warnings- throwing up and drug use.*

The moment Daryl awakens, his body tenses up instantly from the unfamiliar bed and blankets. He starts to hyperventilate as he struggles to unravel himself out of the too soft blanket, but instead he slips off the bed and is welcomed by the cold floor.

 

Still tangled up, he curses to himself when he finally gets one leg free. Not realizing how much noise he has made until he hears steady walking towards the strange room he is in.

 

Instinctually and driven by fear, Daryl drags and wiggles himself under the bed. With little room to spare he holds his breath, the only thing he can hear is his own heart beat and the bedroom door opening.

 

“Uh... You awake?”

 

Rick asks, confused as he peeks his head into the spare bedroom, peering around the room.

 

“Daryl?”

 

Under the bed, the dancer starts to breathe again as he strangely recognizes the voice and slowly the night before comes back to memory.

 

Seconds go by and Rick is about to search the room until a head of shaggy brown hair pops up from the side of the bed. The moment their eyes meet, strange electricity runs through them.

 

“Hey, uh good morning.”

 

Rick nervously scratches the back of his head, wondering what to say without scaring the already frightened man more.

 

“I put some extra clothes in the bathroom down the hall to the left, feel free to clean up. I’m also making breakfast, hope you like eggs and bacon.”

 

Rick says calmly as he smiles lightly, trying to lighten up the mood.

 

Daryl still stares at him with wide blue eyes, not sure of what to say. The other takes that as a cue to leave before he overly stresses the poor guy out.

 

Half way down the hall, just before he reaches the stairs, Rick stops to rub at his face in doubt. Wondering what he has gotten himself into. The words “Please” from Daryl keep repeating in his head, reminding him this is meant to be.

 

Five or so minutes pass before Daryl feels safe enough to untangle himself from the blankets and to let himself get a better grip on what’s going on.

 

He looks around the room first, taking in all the detail. The soft double sized bed that he was just in, non broken furniture placed neatly around the room, and actual flooring instead of the cold cement of the club.

 

The club.

 

Daryl jumps to his feet, this obviously isn’t the club, he can breathe, smell the fresh air drafting in from the window.

 

He slowly stalks over to the window, just as he is about to look out into the world he hasn’t seen for years. Fear and anxiety takes hold of his being, and before he knows it, he’s on the floor sobbing uncontrollably. Hands running through his hair, trying to get a grip on reality.

 

He doesn’t want to be here, but doesn’t want to go back. He has no life there, forced to live the life his brother gave him.

 

Daryl’s heart broke as he fought with himself mentally, what would become of him is he asked the stranger to take him back. What would Merle and the others do to him if they found him outside the club.

 

He starts to hyperventilate again as the terror of being found outside where he isn’t suppose to be overwhelms him.

 

Within seconds he’s scrabbling through his pockets, just trying to find something, anything he had stashed away on him. Anything at this point will help.

 

Relief washes over him when he finds in his pants pocket a small baggie of morphine, with shaky hands Daryl takes two pills dry and stashes the bag back into his pocket. Happy that the stranger didn’t go through his pockets.

 

He lays there on the floor by the window, feeling the light breeze as he waits for the pills to kick in. The tears subside and dry onto his cheeks, not even bothering to wipe them away.

 

\---

 

Breakfast is ready, but Daryl is no where to be seen which it predicted, Rick hasn’t even heard the shower start yet. So he decides on bringing up a plate to the young man, hoping that he is doing okay.

 

He knows how crazy this must be for him, waking up in a strange man’s home. Even after everything Daryl has been through at his brothers expense, Rick doesn’t know how bad and how long he has been there for, but the look in his eyes last night, said it all.

 

Rick knows how difficult this will be to help Daryl, but he knows it’s something he needs to do.

 

\---

 

As Daryl starts to feel his muscles relax and tingle, he decides to wonder around the room more, taking in as much detail as he can.

 

Upon the dresser is a bag, a bag he recognizes to be his own. He quickly hurries over and searches through it, relieved the stranger was nice enough to grab some of his belongings.

 

Some clothes and Daryl’s journal.

 

As he digs deeper though his belongings, frustration hits him like a train upon realizing he has no other drugs on him, other than the three pils left in his pocket.

 

He is about to throw his bag across the room, but knocking on the door drags him out of his anger, replacing it with fear. What if it is Merle or the others.

 

What if it’s Phillip.

 

“Hey, I brought you a plate... Want me to leave it out here for you?”

 

The stranger’s voice asks outside the door and it takes everything in Daryl to answer back.

 

“Leave it.”

 

Daryl’s small hoarse voice breaks the silence in the room, his own voice unrecognizable to himself.

 

The sound of glasses being lightly placed on the floor is heard and then foot steps as they leave.

 

Daryl waits a good few minutes before he risks opening the door, he is starting to feel somewhat comfortable in this room and doesn’t want to ruin it with the outside world.

 

When he finally gets the courage, he slowly opens the door a tiny bit, enough for him to peer out of it.

 

No stranger or danger in sight, so Daryl quickly grabs the plate of food and the glass of water beside it and as soon as the door was opened, it is closed.

 

He hurriedly sits onto the floor and stares at the now cold food on the plate. Two eggs, bacon, and weird potato looking things stare back up at him. 

 

Daryl thinks about pushing it to the side and not trusting it, but the hunger deep within his stomach growls loudly, and before he knows it, he is mowing down like there’s no tomorrow.

 

Only using his hands, he tears at the cold bacon and shoves it into his mouth, missing the flavour that once was his childhood, before his mother’s death.

 

Half way through the plate, he begins to cry again. The familiar, yet distant taste of everything bring back unwanted and forgotten memories.

 

When the plate is clean, he chugs back the water, not realizing how thirsty he is.

 

Before he gets to the bottom of the glass, the feeling of saliva coats his mouth. He knows what this means and quickly looks around the room for something to use.

 

Upon finding a garbage pail tucked under a nightstand and with seconds to spare, the unpleasant feeling of nausea hits and breakfast is brought back up.

 

In his haze he doesn’t hear the knocking on the door, until he hears the stranger talking again.

 

“Everything okay in there?”

 

The stranger almost sounds sad and that confuses Daryl to no end. He shakes his head, but then realizes the other can’t see him.

 

“Everything’s okay.”

 

Daryl shyly mumbles as he wipes at his mouth with his sleeve.

 

“Okay, well if you need me I’ll be outside in the garden...”

 

Daryl doesn’t reply this time and is thankful that the stranger is giving him his space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! xoxo


	4. Broken and Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl struggles to accept his new life, while Rick fights with his own guilt as he questions if what he did was the right thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took forever, I had to rewrite it because I didn’t like it. lol Now I’m happy with where this is going! :) Hope you guys are too!
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, this is a very dark fic. It will have it’s sweet moments, but for now enjoy this roller-coaster of heart ache! Muhahaha! :3

Rick wants so badly to bust through the door and help the poor guy out, but he knows Daryl needs his space right now.

 

Now isn’t the time to be overcrowding and asking all the questions he has, Daryl will come to him when the time is right. So for now, Rick hurries outside into his backyard to clear his mind to work on his garden, leaving the door open just incase Daryl starts yelling for him.

 

As he works away with pulling out a few weeds, he lets his mind wonder.

 

Rick is still surprised of how easy it was to get Daryl and himself out of the club, everyone was either too drunk or high to notice.

 

Either way, he had a lot of guts to do it.

 

He swallows down the anxious lump that has formed in his throat, wondering what would of happened if he was caught. Even now, what if someone recognizes Daryl, he can’t keep him on this large farm house land forever.

 

But he shakes those thoughts out of his head and tries to think more positive in this fucked up situation. Daryl is out of that Hell whole and is now safe, well as safe as Rick can keep him and that’s all that matters.

 

Rick throws his gloves onto the dirt in frustration and lights up a smoke, still wondering what he has gotten himself into.

 

\---

 

Daryl hasn’t moved from his spot on the floor, too scared to upset his stomach any further. So he lays there until he realizes he has to go to the restroom, but waits it out as long as he can.

 

The pain of his bladder almost becomes unbearable and within seconds he’s up at the door with his clammy hands on the handle.

 

He stops mid turn and catches his breath, trying to strain his hearing to listen for anything dangerous outside the door. With enough courage, he takes a deep breath and opens the door.

 

Taking a quick glimpse outside into a normal looking hallway, he almost considers going to the bathroom in the pail, but he knows he is acting childish.

 

With all the guts he has left he leaves the room with hesitant silent steps, following the stranger’s directions to the bathroom. He sees the stair way leading down and his heart beat picks up, the unknown awaiting down those stairs.

 

He passes another bedroom and he quickly peeks inside, to see a neatly made bed. Assuming it is the stranger’s room, he passes it in fear of over stepping his boundaries for looking too long.

 

Daryl is instantly grateful once he finds the bathroom, nothing special about it. A clean toilet, shower, and bath tub. The window is covered with a curtain and he finally is able to breathe again when he locks the door behind him.

 

After doing his business and while washing with hands, he sees the clean clothing resting on the counter of the sink. He considers going back to his safe place, but the thought of a hot shower sends a shiver down his spine.

 

The club had plumbing, which he was very thankful for. The only thing that sucked was the unlimited supply of hot water, many times he had to shower in freezing cold water.

 

Which was no problem, he got used to it. A bath was a whole other story, but decided to leave that for another time. Right now he wants to get rid of the dirt that sticks to his skin like a layer of flesh.

 

Once he checks the lock a few more times he convinces himself into the porcelain lion claw bathtub and as soon as the water turns hot the muscles throughout his body start to loosen. The worries of today just disappear and the fears of tomorrow fade away like the grime that slips down the drain below his feet.

 

Minutes seem like hours as he loses track of time, feeling safe under the stream of water. Never wanting to leave, but the thought of the stranger getting angry at the water bill is enough for him to turn off the water.

 

Daryl stands there in the tub, dripping with water. His head falls down in sadness and then the tears come back. He crumbles to the tub in sorrow, clenching his head praying the world would just swallow him whole.

 

\---

 

After Rick finished his smoke in the garden and walked around his yard a bit to clear his head, he decides to go back inside to work on lunch. Since Daryl puked up his breakfast and would be hungry again soon.

 

He paces around his kitchen wondering what would be soft enough on the others stomach, until he hears the faint sound of crying up stairs and his heart shatters.

 

Rick didn’t mean to cause Daryl so much suffering, he thought what he did was the right thing to do. Standing helplessly in the middle of his own kitchen he listens to the sobs of the younger man, not knowing what to do.

 

Twenty or so minutes pass and the crying settles down causing Rick to relax a bit. He feels terrible for not going up there and helping, but what help would he be when he has no idea where to start.

 

So he sits defeated in a kitchen table chair, wondering how on earth he is going to help Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Daryl ever come out of his safe place and get better?
> 
> Will Rick send him back?!
> 
> Wait to see in the next chapter! :D
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading! xoxo


	5. A Simple Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl still tries to cope with the change. Angry and sad is a terrible mix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a quick shout out to everyone who left comments/kudos!!! You all are amazing! And it's helping me keep motivated to work on this story!
> 
> So thank you very much!! xoxo
> 
> I want to apologize that Rick and Daryl haven't spoken much yet, but Daryl's growth and story line right now is very important for me.   
> My plans for the next chapter include some interaction between the two! Yay!
> 
>  
> 
> Lol Trust me, this will be a Rickyl story! But a slow burn! :3
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

After the tears stop falling, Daryl forces himself out of the safety of the tub, still wet he dries himself off with a clean towel resting beside the tub.

 

He avoids looking into the mirror above the sink, not wanting to see himself right now.

 

The smell of expensive cleaning detergent hits him like a brick, he almost doesn’t feel worthy of it at all.

 

Daryl almost puts on his old clothing, but the thought of fresh clean clothes is unbearable to resist.

 

The clothes are a size too big, but he doesn’t complain. Once the soft fabric rests against his now clean skin it causes him to get instantly sleepy.

 

Everything that has happened to him in the last twenty four hours has put a emotional toll on him. In a mental fog, he hesitantly leaves the safety of the bathroom and scatters back to the room he first awoken in.

 

Almost slamming the door shut and frantically looking for a lock, he is deeply saddened when there is none. To ease his mind, he drags the dresser up against the door. Hoping the stranger or anyone else doesn’t sneak into the room while he tries to sleep.

 

Upon reaching the bed he sees the bedding has been changed and the pail has been changed as well. 

 

Feeling instantly shameful for dirtying up the stranger’s home. Maybe he is right, maybe he isn’t worth all of this.

 

On the night stand is a fresh cup of water, a plate with some lightly warm toast, and some fruit.

 

But the food doesn’t catch Daryl’s attention first, a neatly placed piece of paper beside the plate catches his eyes instead.

 

Unsure, Daryl slowly reaches out and examines the paper. Shocked by the neat writing, it takes him a second to get his bearings before he begins to read it.

 

Sitting down on the side of the bed, he decides it’s now or never. Fear washes over him as he prepares for the worst.

 

The paper read, 

 

“Daryl,

 

I’m so very sorry this has happened, you do not deserve this. The moment I met you last night, I knew you didn’t want to be there, forced to live there by your brother’s rules.

 

If that’s not the case, I truly apologize. But please know, that I am here for you and to help you get back on your feet.

 

Anyone I can call, anything I can do for you. Please just ask, I will help in any way I can.

 

If you haven’t noticed yet, we are no longer in the city, we are a half a hour away. So do not worry, my farm house is very difficult to find. You will be safe here, I’ll make sure of it. I live here alone and the closest neighbour is ten minutes away.

 

Also, I should tell you about myself. My name is Rick Grimes and I own this house, has been my family for many years. I do not have any live stock as I am too busy to do so, I am a full time police officer in the city.

 

I have requested two weeks off to be here for you. If you need me to leave the house for a bit or for any other reason, please feel free to tell me, I do not mind giving you your space.

 

And if you want to go back, just say so. It will be like we never met.

 

So please Daryl, understand I am here for you. Anything you need, let me know.

 

Rick.”

 

Daryl has mixed emotions as he finishes reading, anger and sorrow spread through him like wild fire. 

 

Who the fuck does this Rick guy think he is, to come into someone’s life and turn it upside down.

 

Daryl angrily throws the paper into the thrash and falls back into the bed, too mentally and emotionally exhausted to do anything else.

 

Not before long, Daryl passes out.

 

His sleep invaded by distorted faces and unspeakable torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!! xoxo


	6. Calming Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl awakens screaming and Rick comes running to the rescue.
> 
>  
> 
> *Warnings- Drug use, drinking, and mention of suicide.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone! This chapter took longer than expected, I had to rewrite the whole thing a few times until I was somewhat happy with it.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm kind of iffy about it, let me know what you think? please :)

Rick hasn’t heard anything upstairs in the last hour and he assumes Daryl passed out.

 

Feeling somewhat ready to relax he scopes out his kitchen for something to snack on, since he hasn’t been able to eat much today. Too stressed about Daryl to worry about himself and his needs.

 

As he boringly pushes things around in the fridge something interesting catches his eye, a unopened bottle of whiskey hidden behind some leftover containers.

 

Rick knows he shouldn’t be drinking at a time like this, but it’s been a very stressful day. Also it’s been two years since someone other than Rick has spent a night in the house, so it’s a strange feeling he isn’t used to.

 

He turns on the tv and a show about zombies is on, the whole idea of it all makes him chuckle.

 

After a few hours between the show and going through his emails on his phone the sun sets outside and Rick still hasn’t heard anything upstairs, and it desperately makes him want to go up there and check up on him, but decides against it.

 

He hopes the letter he left is enough and that Daryl will come to him when the time is right.

 

Before Rick knows it the alcohol, stress, and lack of sleep catch up to him and he passes out on the couch.

 

\---

 

Daryl awakens to his own screams, gripping the sweat drenched blanket with his life, suffering from a terrible headache that tears at his skull with every beat of his rapid heart.

 

Frantically in a nightmarish haze he gawks around the dark room confused of where he is and why his head hurts so much.

 

As he realizes everything isn’t just some bad dream and he is no longer in his own bed, the tears fall again and the unsettling feeling of uncertainty clouds over him. 

 

Hyperventilating and whimpering he searches around his pants pockets for his pills to help ease the pain.

 

Suddenly the dresser he put in front of the door slides across the floor with a loud screech as the door swings open hastily.

 

Terrified that it’s his brother, Daryl curls into a ball, his arm stretched out begging for mercy and forgiveness.

 

Rick with his gun in hand, fumbles to find the light switch, ready to shoot if needed.

 

Once the light is on he gets a good look at the room for any possible threat. He tucks the gun away in the back of his pants when he realizes there is no danger, but hears his own heart breaking at the sight of Daryl.

 

He is curled up in a ball with a hand reached out shaking uncontrollably to shield himself from any danger. Hairs a mess and the clothes he given him stick to his skin from sweat.

 

“Hey, Dare... shhh, it’s just me, Rick...”

 

Rick uses a calm voice with his arms up showing no harm is to come, not trying to scare the already frightened man anymore.

 

Daryl peeks up from the safety of his arm, blinking wildly through his thick tears trying to adjust to the bright light above him, causing his headache to worsen.

 

Not seeing the usual anger and lust looking back at him, instead he sees sadness, comfort, and something else he can’t put his finger on.

 

Rick’s eyes are a clear light blue and it seems to calm the storm trying to knock Daryl over.

 

His tears finally cease and he somewhat relaxes his arm against his body, still visibly shaking uncontrollably and in some sort of aguish. Hair sticking to his face and eyes puffy red, he doesn’t look anything like the young man Rick saved at the club a night ago.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Rick feels so fucking stupid for asking because obliviously he isn’t, but he doubts Daryl will tell him otherwise unless he asks.

 

Daryl shakes his head, the motion causes his head to ache intensely. He grabs at his temples, trying to hold his head still as his body shakes wildly like a leaf.

 

The pain is so bad tears begin to fall again and he feels pathetic for acting like this, acting so weak. Thinking he should have ended his life earlier so then he wouldn’t have to go through this shit. 

 

Embarrassing himself in front of the nicest guy he has ever met, he rather be back at the club dancing than be here sobbing like a mess in some farm house outside the city.

 

“Hey, hey... It’s okay, what do you need? I have Advil, I can get that for you...”

 

Rick asks as he steps closer to the bed wanting to comfort the broken man.

 

“Whe-where’s my pants, I need my pants.”

 

Daryl manages to hiccup through his fingers as he cries in his hands, trying to hide his face from Rick.

 

“What?”

 

Confused, Rick rubs at his neatly trimmed beard trying to understand why Daryl needs his pants, until it dawns on him.

 

“Oh, shit. I’ll be right back.”

 

Within seconds Rick is racing down the stairs, leaving Daryl a crying mess in the bed, just praying for his pills or for anything to end his suffering.

 

\---

 

Not even three minutes later Rick is running back up the stairs and into Daryl’s room with a bag in his hand.

 

“Here, take what you need.”

 

Daryl looks up at what Rick has in his hand. Amazed, he wipes at his wet eyes. Rick must have grabbed his emergency stash hidden in his room at the club.

 

He reaches out carefully not trying to cause anymore pain to his head, smiling a tiny bit as he opens the bag.

 

Morphine, molly, cocaine, a large supply of weed, and a few other drugs to help cope with everything.

 

Rick watches intently as he fumbles around with the bag until he grabs a smaller baggie containing white pills. 

 

Pouring at least eight in his sweaty palm, just wanting a sweet relief of his suffering.

 

“Take what you need.”

 

Rick says sternly, not wanting the other to hurt himself by overdosing.

 

Confused and angry, Daryl puts a few pills back and takes four instead. He is about to put the bag down on the bed to take his pills, but Rick had other plans.

 

Daryl watches as the older man reaches his hand out requesting the bag back. They stare at each other for a few seconds until Daryl breaks and hesitantly gives it back.

 

Rick still hasn’t broken eye contact and Daryl knows what he wants and takes the pills awkwardly dry in front of him.

 

Just wanted to make sure he didn’t snort them or stash some away for a bigger dose next time.

 

“I found these in your room, I brought them here because I know going cold turkey can hurt you. I will be keeping them locked away, so if you need anything else please just ask. Just know I will be keeping count of everything and making sure you don’t overdose.”

 

His fingers gliding gently against the zip lock on the bag in his hands, feeling terrible for doing this to the already shattered man.

 

But he knows giving a whole bag of drugs to someone heavily dependant on them and in such a emotion state is a overdose waiting to happen.

 

Rick sees the sorrow in Daryl’s wet eyes, vulnerable and alone. He can also see the want to fight deep, deep down, but he doesn’t. 

 

“I’m truly sorry, Daryl.”

 

Rick signs, looking away finally. The pain in Daryl’s blue orbs eat him alive, knowing he is the main cause of this pain.

 

“Are you hungry? Do you need anything else?”

 

Daryl shakes his head gently, too emotionally drained to think of anything else he may need. 

 

He just wants to sleep.

 

“Okay... I’ll be in the room next door if you need anything, please wake me up if you need anymore pills...”

 

Before he leaves, Rick slides the dresser back against the wall in it’s original place.

 

“You’re safe here.”

 

He whispers to Daryl as he shuts the door firmly behind him. Outside the room he lets out a heavy sign, not sure if he handled all of that right.

 

Once Daryl hears quietness in the hallway, he silently moves the dresser back against the door and decides to leave the light on, too scared to be in the dark right now.

 

He hates himself so much, acting like such a child and crying like a little bitch. He didn’t need Rick to save him and doesn’t need his mothering either, but the way he looks at him shakes him to his core.

 

As he crawls into the bed trying to calm the terrible headache still pounding at his temples. Thankful the tears have finally stopped.

 

Not before long the pills kick in and the outstanding pain is replaced with the familiar warm tingling and within minutes he passes out.

 

His sleep is no longer invaded by distorted faces and unspeakable torture, instead calming blue eyes guide him through the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Is Rick hiding something? Why hasn’t slept in his house for over two years now? And will Daryl ever trust Rick?


	7. Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they share a awkward morning together, Rick asks a few questions. 
> 
> Can Rick gain Daryl’s trust?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! Sorry everyone! I had an amazing time in the city! Went to a gay club with my BFF and it was the BEST thing ever!!!! :D 
> 
>  
> 
> I wrote this on the very long bus rides, hope it’s okay! I was pretty stressed out since it was my first time traveling by myself!
> 
>  
> 
> So just let me know what you think!? :) Enjoy!

Rick hardly gets any sleep, tossing and turning all night. Plagued by guilt and worry, wondering if he has done the right thing or not.

 

Going back and forth in his head thinking if sending Daryl to a hospital would benefit this whole fucked up situation.

 

Rick didn’t dare say anything to his boss about taking Daryl home when he called in for his vacation hours, let alone going inside the club. Just told him that there was a family emergency.

 

Thinking this should all be on the down low until he figures everything out, his first and top priority is Daryl. 

 

To help the young man get mentally stable, back on his feet, and especially not so depended on drugs.

 

He doesn’t know what Daryl had to endure down there in that God forsaken place, but he knows it wasn’t good. The way Daryl looked at him that night, almost begging to be released from the shackles that held him there.

 

Rick knows Daryl obviously has some serious issues going on mentally and emotionally that he has to overcome or seek help for.

 

But what Rick doesn’t know for sure is how deep the rabbit hole goes.

 

\---

 

The sun peeking through the curtain startles Daryl awake, not used to seeing daylight. As he lays in bed entwined with the blanket he wonders if it’s even worth getting up out of bed.

 

What else is out there for him.

 

His headache isn’t gone, but it’s bearable. The thought of staying in the comfortable bed is very tempting, almost so tempting until his stomach rumbles.

 

Daryl slowly rises and stretches gently trying not to disturb his tense muscles too much. Getting out of the bed is a whole other story, the cold wooden floor under his feet is almost refreshing.

 

His clothes stick awkwardly to his flesh after sweating out his withdrawals last night so he quietly steps towards his bag hoping to find something clean to wear.

 

Pulling out a few torn shirts and a pair of pants Daryl changes his mind and decides to keep on the somewhat damp clothes from last night, he rather smell like sweat instead of shitty memories.

 

Before he heads towards the door he takes a quick glance at the window, very curious to look out into the world, but fear overpowers him and he thinks the worst. 

 

What if Merle is outside waiting for him to peek his head out, what if...

 

Daryl stops himself from thinking any further, he is all cried out. He wants to avoid making himself look like a cry baby in front of Rick today.

 

Leaving the room is even harder than getting out of the bed, after a few minutes of deep breathing he moves the dresser out of the way and steps out into the hallway before he can chicken out.

 

On top of the staircase he looks down at a old pair of wooden steps leading down into the unknown. His heartbeat picks up and adrenaline courses through his veins as he steps onto the first step.

 

Gripping the handle so tight his knuckles go white as he strains to keep himself from running back upstairs into the safety of the room.

 

He hears a faint noise of running water and a few dishes clinking around causing him to assume Rick is awake.

 

Pushing his hair around trying to make himself look at least half decent before he goes down the rest of the stairs.

 

Which he thinks is weird, why is he so worried about his fucking hair.

 

On the last step Daryl is thankful what looks to be the main door has a curtain over the window. He doesn’t want to look outside right now and doesn’t think he ever will.

 

Once his last foot hits the floor it creaks loudly and it causes him to cringe. Why he wants to be so quiet, he will never know.

 

Rick then peeks his head around the corner of the kitchen and makes eye contact with Daryl. Instantly the officer has a big smile on his face, he knew Daryl would come around eventually.

 

The younger man looks a little better, eyes not as red, but still swollen from crying. He’s not as hunched into himself or a sweaty mess like last night, instead he stands barefoot and wild eyed at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Good morning, you hungry?”

 

Rick smiles gently, hoping he will at least eat something.

 

“Uhhh... Yeah?”

 

Daryl looks down at his feet nervously, he feels terrible for being here and eating his food for free.

 

Nodding, Rick slips back into the kitchen to fix something up for Daryl, smile and all.

 

\---

 

Getting to move his feet is another task of it’s own, he doesn’t understand why he is acting so childish.

 

Rick seems like a good guy.

 

Hesitantly walking closer, Daryl glances into the kitchen and quickly ducks back behind the safety of the wall.

 

Open window.

 

What if?

 

What if Merle?

 

“What’s wrong, Dare?”

 

Daryl almost begins to panic again until Rick speaks up, bringing him out of his anxiety with just his soothing voice, the nickname going straight over his head.

 

“The window... Can you cover it up?”

 

Daryl’s whispers, shaking against the wall.

 

“Yeah, no problem...”

 

Within seconds the sound of fabric being ruffled catches Daryl’s ears and he feels his muscles instantly relax. Thankful for Rick being so kind and understanding.

 

Daryl steps into the open kitchen, so tempted to run back upstairs, but instead he stands awkwardly until Rick nods his head towards a vacant chair against the table.

 

“So tell me Daryl, what do you want to eat?”

 

Rick turns casually towards the nervous man somewhat hunched in on himself again. He smiles kindly, trying his best to keep Daryl relaxed.

 

“Uhh...”

 

Daryl mumbles to himself, not knowing what to say. Nobody really has asked him what he wanted to eat before, just always gave him whatever was cheap.

 

“Cereal?...”

 

He questions shyly, pushing some hair behind his ear, but it just falls back down.

 

“Yeah, I got that.”

 

The older man says too eagerly as he searches around in his cupboards. Not a second later he places a clean bowl and box of rice cereal onto the table in front of Daryl.

 

“...thanks...”

 

The younger man mumbles quietly as he hesitantly reaches out for the box and pours a decent amount into the bowl given to him, instantly knowing something isn’t right.

 

Daryl skims over the box searching for the expiry date. Knowing the cereal must be way past it.

 

“Um, Rick... I think this expired.”

 

He nervously says as he places the box onto the table within reach of Rick to check it out.

 

“Fuck, really?”

 

Rick curses himself for being so stupid and checks the box himself. 

 

Daryl wasn’t lying, it expired two years ago.

 

Rick shakes his head before memories start taking over, now isn’t the time.

 

“Sorry about that Daryl, I don’t check my cupboards as often as I should... would you like anything else?”

 

The officer throws out the box and takes the bowl of stale mouldy cereal from Daryl and places it in the sink, he’ll deal with it later.

 

“Toast?”

 

Daryl asks fidgety, feeling like he is asking for too much.

 

“That won’t be expired, let me tell you that.”

 

Rick chuckles as he places some slices within the toaster, silently hoping Daryl likes whole wheat bread.

 

“Butter, jam, peanut butter?”

 

The officer causally asks as he grabs the warm toasted bread out of the toaster, getting prepared to spread anything on it.

 

“Butter is fine...”

 

Daryl quietly says, fidgeting in his seat. Uncomfortable under the older man’s gaze and new surroundings. Thankful his hair is long enough to cover his roaming eyes, Rick has a very nice kitchen. Well, to be honest, any kitchen would be nicer than the shitty one he had at the club.

 

While Rick spreads butter neatly across the toast, a million different questions flood his head. He has so many questions, but feels small steps at a time will not bring the frightened man into a mental breakdown.

 

Sliding the toast on a plate towards Daryl, Rick takes a seat with his morning coffee across from him. He can tell he is becoming overwhelmed with just being stared at, so he shifts his eyes to the newspaper resting on the table and sips at his coffee.

 

The toast sits there untouched for another minute before Daryl slowly reaches out and brings the plate closer to him. He awkwardly picks at the crust, feeling terrible for eating Rick’s food, especially since he is used to working for everything giving to him at the club.

 

Another silent minute goes by and he can’t fight the ache in his stomach any longer. Sighing with defeat, Daryl takes apart the bread piece by piece trying to take it easy this time and not throw it up.

 

Rick secretly watches him from the corner of his eyes and smiles gently at the first few bites, so thankful he is at least eating at a time like this.

 

Plate empty and stomach full Daryl looks up shyly from the plate to Rick across from him skimming through the newspaper.

 

“Can I have some more pills... please?”

 

Daryl mumbles as he fumbles around with his fingers, nervous he is asking for too much.

 

“Yeah, no problem, but I have a few questions if that’s okay?”

 

Rick raises a eyebrow playfully, hoping Daryl doesn’t feel like he is being interrogated. He watches him squirm uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes quickly glancing towards the hallway wondering if it’s worth running.

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

Daryl nervously bites at his finger nail, trying to make somewhat good eye contact through his messy hair.

 

“Daryl Dixon is it?”

 

Rick asks the simplest question he had floating around in his head, he’d get to the harder ones when the time is right.

 

Daryl nods hesitantly, he knows he hasn’t broken any laws, but knows what the last name Dixon can bring.

 

“How old are you, Daryl?”

 

He asks as he takes another sip of his coffee.

 

“Twenty one... at least I think so.”

 

Before Rick can ask for more information on that statement his cellphone rings.

 

“One second, sorry.”

 

Slightly annoyed he reaches to his belt clip for his phone and reads the screen name.

 

Glenn.

 

“Sorry, I got to take this.”

 

Rick whispers to Daryl as he holds up a finger to signal one minute, but Daryl takes it as hush.

 

“Hey, what’s up?”

 

The officer breathes into the phone as he gets out of his seat to walk around the kitchen.

 

“Hey, sorry to call so early. I looked up a Daryl Dixon in the missing files of Atlanta like you asked...”

 

“And?”

 

“And it says Daryl was found deceased four years ago.”

 

Rick glances quickly over to Daryl at the table, obviously he couldn’t be dead.

 

“Anything else it say?”

 

“Not really, was reported missing at sixteen by his father. No other follow ups or reports of sightings have been filed.”

 

Rick rubs at his beard in confusion, obviously there is much more to this than what’s being presented.

 

“The parents... are they still alive?”

 

Daryl’s eyes shift up to Rick who is now resting against the kitchen counter, he assumes the call is about his job.

 

“Umm, let me check.”

 

Rick can hear the faint sound of fingers clicking at a keyboard as he stops leaning and heads into the living room for more privacy.

 

“Mother died in a house fire many years ago... the father...”

 

More clicking.

 

“Ah, yes! Found him... wait, says he passed away last year from a heart condition.”

 

Signing in frustration, Rick scratches at his cheek.

 

“Any other family?”

 

“No, other than Merle Dixon who has a warrant out for his arrest in mostly every state, he has no other family on file, but good luck finding Merle.”

 

Glenn chuckles into the phone as he skims the website he hacked into for Rick.

 

“Anything else Rick?”

 

“No, that’s all... uh, thanks Glenn.”

 

“No problem, call me if you have any other questions.”

 

Rick tosses his phone onto the couch wondering where to go with this information. No way in Hell he is dead, unless the young man sitting in his kitchen isn’t even Daryl in the first place or someone must have faked his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! xoxo


	8. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl starts to relax a little bit, well with the help of drugs of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really proud of this chapter myself, so I hope you all enjoy it!!! :)
> 
>  
> 
> *WARNING - drug use, swearing, somewhat panic attack.*

Rick signs loudly running his fingers through his curly hair tucking it back behind his ears. He needed to go into town and find anything about Daryl, maybe even a birth certificate or anything with a picture, anything that can help identify him.

 

He grabs his phone and clips it to his hip as he heads back towards the kitchen to tell Daryl he will be right back.

 

“Dar-”

 

Interrupted and startled when he turns around to see Daryl leaning up against the door frame of the living room, staring at him confused and worried.

 

He looks so small hugging the wooden frame, hair a mess and rosy cheeks.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

Daryl quietly asks, scared something bad is happening. Totally oblivious that the phone call was about him and anxious Rick might have to go for his job and leave him here all alone.

 

“Yeah, everything’s fine Daryl, don’t worry... I just need to head into town for a few hours, I won’t be gone long.”

 

Rick smiles gently, hoping to ease the other’s mind, until the sadness in Daryl’s eyes says other wise.

 

On the verge of tears, Daryl begins to tremble at the idea of being left alone when his brother and the others might be out looking for him. His hair dancing in front of his eyes as he shakes his head no, begging Rick not to leave.

 

“Whoa, easy now... I’ll stay...I’ll stay.”

 

Rick uses his best soothing voice and reaches his hands towards Daryl trying to comfort the man without actually touching him, he should have known leaving right now was a bad idea.

 

“Look, I’m right here... I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Daryl scrubs at his eyes in embarrassment, hating himself for being so weak in front of a man he doesn’t even know. He wipes at his cheeks trying to remove the stains, confused at his own little meltdown.

 

Rick is finally able to breath once Daryl composes himself and stops shaking.

 

“You said you wanted some more pills right?”

 

Daryl just nods, hiding his red puffy eyes behind his hair again. Trying to press himself closer into the door frame, praying he’d just be sucked into the walls.

 

Begging someone not to leave is a first for him and he feels so ashamed to feel so dependant on someone like that.

 

“Just wait right here, I’ll go get them.”

 

Rick smiles lightly as he slides past Daryl, making sure to give him his space as he heads back into the kitchen to the safe he has hidden.

 

When he comes back to the living room he half expects Daryl to be on the couch, but instead the younger man is pushed up against the wall, scared of something in the room before him.

 

Rick automatically reaches for his hip and frowns when he realizes he isn’t carrying his pistol.

 

“Dare?”

 

He whispers calmly, trying to get his attention to move him away from the living room without making too much noise.

 

Daryl whips his head around, his wild blue eyes lock onto Rick’s, causing something to stir inside of the officer. 

 

He stays pressed against the wall like his life depends on it, his chest rising and falling so quickly it has Rick wondering if there is an intruder in his house.

 

“Windows are open...”

 

It’s like Daryl could read Rick’s mind and tries to calm down a little at the stupidness of this all. Ashamed he is so scared of just pieces of glass, Rick must think he is a big baby.

 

“Oh... I’ll cover those up, no troubles.”

 

Rick kindly says as he shakes off the uneasiness and worry, totally confused of Daryl’s fear of windows, but assumes it has something to do with his brother as he might be out looking for him.

 

He doesn’t judge the other man though, Rick has his own fears too. Knows that whatever Daryl has been through, must have been life alternating.

 

After all the dark blue curtains are covering the windows and the room is invisible to the outside, Daryl peeks his head into the room like he knew it was instantly safer now.

 

“You’re safe to come in here if you want, we can watch some tv or a movie, doesn't matter. Your choice.”

 

As he turns on a few lamps around the room and the tv, the room becomes brighter and somewhat cozier.

 

That helps with Daryl’s worries and he steps into the room like a spooked dear. His toes touching soft carpet instead of hardwood flooring, the feeling itself is a little difficult to get used to since the club had no carpet, but the feeling of the fabric on the bottom of his soles is magical.

 

Rick rests onto the couch, taking a far corner, making sure to give Daryl his space if he wants to join him.

 

“I don’t bite.”

 

He instantly regrets the corny ass line, but his smile makes up for it all. 

 

Little does he know, Daryl has never seen such a genuine smile on another man in years.

 

Daryl takes the other far corner from Rick and tries to get comfortable. 

 

Once he looked somewhat relaxed Rick passes him the bag. Daryl reaches out and takes it, his fingers pushing everything aside looking for anything strong enough to fight his headache and the panic attack creeping up his throat.

 

Morphine looks promising, but he wants something much stronger. He considers smoking a fat joint and maybe downing some pain killers until a small baggie at the bottom catches his eye.

 

Daryl pulls them out to get a closer look, trying to identify them.

 

Rick watches from the corner of his eyes as he switches through the channels trying to find something he thinks Daryl may be interested in.

 

Small blue pills stare up at him. He knows instantly what it is when he recognizes the tiny smiley face.

 

Ecstasy, mostly known as Molly or M.D.M.A.

 

He totally forgot he stashed it away with the others a while ago.

 

Staring at them in his palm he wonders if this is the right time for these. It would definitely help with the ache in his brain and would even ease the panic trying to take over his body.

 

After finding nothing really interesting on Rick puts on the same zombie show he watched earlier. 

 

Daryl nods to himself once he makes up his mind and shoves two of the pills in his mouth. 

 

Now it’s the waiting game.

 

He passes the bag back to Rick, somewhat still pissed that he can’t keep it on himself. Watching as the older man gets up off the couch and takes the bag back towards the kitchen, he assumes at least.

 

Not long after Rick comes back and sits in the same spot he was in earlier, coffee cup in hand and sets a cup of orange juice for Daryl on the table, who is deeply infixed on the big screen in front of him.

 

The tv is something he will never get used to, the bright clear pixels mock him from the wall mount. He tilts his head in confusion and amusement as he watches some dead looking people munch on a screaming victim, causing him to chuckle to himself at the unrealism of it all.

 

The graphics of the screen hypnotize him and not before long he starts to feel the effects of his old friend, Molly.

 

“This is so unbelievable!”

 

Daryl mutters out in a half laugh, shaking his head as he looks beside him, half expecting his brother to be there, but is very relieved when it’s Rick and he remembers where he is.

 

Caught off guard, Rick has to swallow his coffee before he spits it out. This is the most he has heard from Daryl, and it isn’t out of pain or fear.

 

“I actually kind of like it, something about that main guy, reminds me of me.”

 

Rick wiggles his one eyebrow with a playful smirk, this earns a small snort from Daryl. 

 

Shaking his head again, Daryl casts his eyes towards the tv and then quickly around the rest of the living room.

 

Strange, Rick has no personal pictures up other than paintings. No childhood pictures, beloved pets, or not even smiling faces of a happy family.

 

He thinks this is completely odd since Rick seems like a nice guy and nice guys usually have wives and children by now, especially in a large house like this.

 

He is about to ask why he has no photos up when Rick’s cell phone starts ringing again.

 

Rick gets up off the couch swiftly and walks out of the living room to answer the call in the kitchen for more privacy.

 

On the peak of his high, Daryl stretches out a little easier this time as his muscles aren’t as tense. His whole body tingles like there’s small happy fires dancing across his skin. Pain or anxiety is no longer felt, instead blissfulness and intense happiness courses through his veins.

 

He knows that is the drugs effects, because the last thing he is right now is happy. He is no longer at home, well the place he called home for many fucked up years. He is in some stranger’s home, sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes, and eating his food.

 

Daryl knows he should feel like shit and on the verge of a mental breakdown right now, but instead the drugs help ease the edge of it all and he tries to breathe through his worries.

 

He doesn’t know what’s to come of this situation, but tries his best to etch in his brain for the days when he isn’t so fucking high, to remember to take it day by day.

 

Daryl looks towards the hallway leading out of the living room, wondering if Rick is okay.

 

Which is also even weirder to worry about someone he just met. He shakes it off as another effect of the pills and tries to get comfortable on the couch, but the trip makes him want to get up and explore.

 

The unknown is intriguing when you feel safe and energized, but he knows it’s all a false sense of security.

 

That doesn’t stop him though, he gets up off the couch and wonders around the living room taking in every little detail.

 

He finds out Rick likes to watch action and comedy movies, no surprise there. The amount of literature he has neatly organized in a real oak bookshelf has Daryl in awe.

 

A book hidden at the way bottom catches his eyes. It has "Album" written on the spine and it causes his body to shake with curiosity.

 

Quickly looking towards the hallway seeing if Rick is coming back, feeling like he shouldn’t be digging into something so personal, but he can’t help himself.

 

Daryl’s trembling fingers are inches away from the book when Rick comes back into the living room, Daryl pulls his hand away like it burnt him.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

Rick tilts his head in worry, if Daryl wanted to read something he is more than welcome.

 

“Yeah, just looking at your book collection. It’s nice to see so many books all at once.”

 

Daryl smiles sadly and looks up at Rick who is a few feet away.

 

Rick is astounded when Daryl looks up at him, his blue eyes no longer have any hue. Instead black shiny pupils have taken over his irises.

 

He knows it is an effect of the drugs, has seen it many times when arresting people with possession or driving under the influence. But the way Daryl’s eyes look at him doesn’t look like the other’s he has seen throughout his life.

 

His eyes shine with such sorrow, like his light went out many, many years ago and it shatters his heart instantly.

 

Daryl is going to be the death of him.

 

Just as it happens, Daryl quickly looks away. Feeling awkward again under Rick’s gaze, something about it causes his skin to burn. His gaze isn’t like everyone else’s and that has him flustered to the high heavens.

 

“Are you okay to be by yourself for a few hours? I won’t be far, just in the basement. My office is down there, I need to catch up on some paper work that I’v been slacking on.”

 

Rick asks nervously scratching the back of his neck, this either could go two ways.

 

Daryl nods quickly, he knows he shouldn’t be acting like such a child, but that doesn’t help the terror of having Rick too far away.

 

“I’ll just be in the basement. Come down and get me if you need anything. Turn on a movie if you want, get something to eat. Anything. Please make yourself at home.”

 

After getting another nod Rick grabs his now cold coffee and heads towards the stairs that lead down just outside the living room.

 

“Feel free to blast some music if you want. The system is over there.”

 

Rick smiles widely at the younger man still standing awkwardly in the living room.

 

“Okay, than-thanks.”

 

Daryl stutters, his eyes glow brighter, how did Rick know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I got sick over the holidays, but I'm better now so I'm hoping for a new update within a week or two!
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has been patient with me and for all the nice comments/kudos! <3


	9. Shattered Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What secrets will Rick dig up about Daryl’s past?
> 
>  
> 
> What is Rick hiding?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! SO sorry everyone! I haven't forgotten, my life has become so crazy I just haven't had enough time to write. :(
> 
> The next chapter is half way done, so expect it by valentines day! :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is so kind! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Once Rick disappears into the basement, Daryl stands around pondering what he should do.

 

Instantly forgetting about the album he was curious about. The thought of blasting some music over powers every other idea, so he goes over to the CD player Rick was talking about.

 

It isn’t anything he was expecting though for someone Rick’s age. One look at the system and all the discs he could tell Rick appreciated good music and good sound quality.

 

Looking through the CDs is a whole other story, Daryl can’t believe they have the same taste in music, other than the country music. Daryl would rather rip out his own ear drums than listen to that.

 

He runs his fingers through all the plastic cases, waiting for something to catch his eye.

 

Stopping at a album he hasn’t heard of before he pulls it out and examines the case.

 

After playing around with a few buttons he manages to insert the disc without breaking anything.

 

The fight song starts to play and the surround sound kicks up. The music plays all around him and it’s almost therapeutic, turning it up as loud as he feels he can get away. Something about the feeling of the bass pounding with his heart makes him feel strangely at home, minus all the heartache and abuse.

 

That’s not where he is now, he is somewhere unfamiliar, but he feels oddly safe here, something about that stranger that saved his life made him feel like he had nothing to worry about anymore.

 

Rick...

 

Daryl blushes to himself at that name and instantly shakes his head trying to stop the redness from traveling down his neck.

 

A few minutes pass and Rick still hasn’t come up the stairs to complain about the music, so Daryl quietly stalks over to the couch and flops down on it.

 

The fabric scratching his back slightly as he wiggles around trying to get comfortable. It doesn’t take long though, his one arm supporting his head and the other resting gently over his stomach. His legs hang causally over the arm of the couch, one foot bouncing to the music.

 

Looking up towards the ceiling, Daryl lets out a heavy sigh. Realizing now how tired he is, emotionally mostly. Rubbing at his sore puffy eyes remind him of all the tears. He rubs harder in frustration, this isn’t the time to be thinking about this.

 

He focuses on the music playing, trying to listen to the lyrics, anything to help ease his mind from racing.

 

His thoughts eventually landing on a handsome curly haired man and this time he doesn’t shake those thoughts away.

 

\---

 

Once down in his office Rick flips open his laptop and turns it on.

 

Taking a sip of his now cold coffee he waits patiently for his desk top background to pop up. The thoughts of Daryl not being who he is, is just too much for him to take in. What will he do with any of the information he might get.

 

As soon as he sits in his comfy leather office chair, rock music begins to play upstairs. Not too long after it gets turned up a little more, but it doesn’t bother Rick any.

 

After he logs into his laptop and connects to the internet he stops to take a breath. Whatever information he gets will change everything and may make things so much more difficult.

 

Typing in Daryl’s name and their city into Google, Rick doesn’t expect much because earlier when he asked Glenn to hack into the police files, he assumed he wouldn’t find anything under his name.

 

He was wrong.

 

A few articles catch his attention. "Sixteen Year Old Missing." and "Missing Teen Found Dead.".

 

This causes his stomach to twist into a knot.

 

Rick is about to click on the first link, but then another link stands out like a sore thumb.

 

“House Fire Kills Mother of Two."

 

Intrigued, he clicks it. A news article at least over ten years old stares back at him.

 

"Tragically Saturday morning, Alma Rose Dixon was pronounced deceased after a house fire engulfed her home on Eleanor Street Friday night.

Alma was the only one in the house at the time and sadly her body was discovered by firefighters after the blaze was put out.

She will be dearly missed by her husband and two sons, Merle Dixon and Daryl Dixon.

Police and firefighters are still investigating what may have been the cause. Donations for the family can be dropped off at Atlanta’s city office."

 

Rick can’t believe anything he just read, Daryl has already been through enough. Losing his mother at such a young age and in such a tragic way is just not fair.

 

As he scrolls a little lower a older picture of a smiling woman beside two young boys grabs his attention, this might be the key to everything.

 

Rick clicks on the image to enlarge it, patiently waiting for it to load. 

 

Right before his eyes, is a pretty woman smiling gently towards the camera. The boy beside her is almost as tall as her and looks to be about fifteen, he had mean eyes and Rick can tell right away that it is in fact, Merle.

 

Beside Merle is a much younger boy clinging to his side, at least under ten years of age. Rick looks at the face of such a sad boy and his heart drops to the floor.

 

It is Daryl.

 

Same facial features, same hair color, and even the birthmark above his lips haven’t changed.

 

Closing down the internet tab, Rick has to take a second to gather his thoughts. This is a lot of information to take in. So the man upstairs is indeed Daryl, meaning the files of his body discovered is fake.

 

Someone faked his death.

 

The first person that comes to Rick’s mind is Merle. Merle is enough of a sick fuck to fake his own brother’s death so no one would go looking for him.

 

Rick runs a trembling hand through his hair, angry and upset isn’t the right words for what he is feeling right now.

 

Taking Daryl to the hospital or police is completely out of the question now. They’ve already made and signed a death certificate for Daryl, going to either of those places would just cause alarm and might even get Daryl found by Merle.

 

So all that Rick can do is keep Daryl here, forever... that’s the only way to keep him safe.

 

He shakes his head in frustration, knowing how stupid that sounds. It’s fucking crazy, he can’t just keep a kidnapped victim in his home. Daryl has no ID, nothing. If Daryl got sick Rick couldn’t take him to the hospital or sign him up for school if that’s the path he wanted to go down.

 

In anger Rick grabs his coffee mug and whips it across the room, glass and coffee splattering everywhere.

 

Why did he get himself into this. Why does he feel so attached to someone he doesn’t even know.

 

How should he even bring this up to Daryl, he deserves to know, but when is a good time to do so...

 

\---

 

Not much after Rick whipped his cup across the room the music upstairs turns down.

 

“Fuck...”

 

Rick whispers to himself in frustration. He didn’t think the mug breaking was heard from upstairs.

 

“Rick?”

 

Daryl shouts down the stairs nervously, worried something terrible has happened.

 

“Yeah... everything’s fine Daryl, I just dropped my mug.”

 

Rick yells over his shoulder as he picks up the broken pieces of glass, angry at himself for snapping so quickly. He hasn’t done that in years.

 

On the top of the steps Daryl clenches the door frame tightly, the temptation to go down is so strong. 

 

He is about to ask if Rick needs any help, but bites his lip in hesitation. 

 

Best to trust that everything is fine and with that he spins on his feet heading back into the living room, not bothered to turn the music back up.

 

He is about to pass the bookcase until he remembers about the photo album, he stops dead in his tracks. Heavily considering the pros and cons of snooping around through Rick’s personal life.

 

Daryl’s eyes dart towards the basement door in the hallway, it wouldn’t hurt to take a small peek. 

 

He blames his curiosity and the ecstasy coursing through his veins for what he is about it do.

 

What’s the worst that could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday! Lol Hope you enjoyed it! :3


	10. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl figures out what is in the album, but Rick’s reaction is something he’d never expect.
> 
>  
> 
> *Warning - panic attacks, yelling, suicide mentioned, and swearing.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this chapter please! I don’t know how I feel about it! >.< lol
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :3

His trembling fingers brush against the album, he can feel his chest vibrating with every pounding beat of his heart.

 

Daryl’s eyes scan the hallway again one last time.

 

Sitting on the soft carpet with the dusty photo album clenched in his hands he sighs, hesitantly opening the first page.

 

"The Grimes Family."

 

In neat hand writing stares back up at him.

 

Daryl gently opens up the rest of the book and it’s almost like a fairytale story.

 

A young couple, Rick and a beautiful brunette are all smiles. A few pages in are wedding photos and Daryl is speechless with how pretty the woman is in her wedding dress.

 

After that is pictures of a beach with white sand, more smiling faces and then images of the woman’s growing belly.

 

Next is a picture of Rick snuggling a tiny baby in his arms, a sweet smile on his face as he looks down at the new born like it’s his whole world.

 

Daryl considers shutting the book after that, he understands so much now, but he needed to know more.

 

Flipping through the rest of the pages years pass as the baby grows into a small child at the age of at least six years old. 

 

Soccer games, baseball games, happy family photos flash by so quickly and this causes Daryl’s heart to ache strongly.

 

The last picture in the album is a ultrasound photo with small handwriting underneath it.

 

"Baby Grimes 2 Due 2015"

 

After that he closes it and holds it tightly in his shaking palms, Daryl doesn’t know if he should smile or cry. Rick has such a beautiful family... but where are they?

 

Why isn’t there any photos of them around the house, Rick should be proud of them. Daryl knows he would be, a happy family was all he wanted growing up.

 

He is about to put the book back in it’s original spot until hands rip if out of his grasp.

 

“What the FUCK are you doing!”

 

Rick sternly raises his voice as he stands over Daryl. Eyes cold as ice, full of distrust and anger. He shoves the album back to where it belongs, frustration radiating off of him.

 

Daryl got up so quickly, eyes wide in fear and arms coming up to defend himself for whatever’s to come next.

 

“I’m sor-sorry! I-I was just curio-!”

 

“ENOUGH!”

 

Rick shouts, so disappointed in Daryl for being so rude, snooping around in his belongings like that. 

 

His eyes burning through Daryl’s blue hues.

 

Daryl looks like a deer in headlights, frozen to where he stands. Shaking uncontrollably, arms up ready to defend himself. His hair long enough to cover his eyes, but Rick can see that he has began to tear up.

 

The pain shone deeply in his eyes instantly snaps Rick out of his trance, anger quickly becomes remorse and he reaches out to the scared man, trying to comfort him, but Daryl flinches away like it burns him. 

 

Before he can apologize Daryl runs off.

 

“Dare!”

 

Rick shouts, his one foot moving forward, but the other doesn’t follow. Instead he stands in his living room alone. Guilt isn’t a strong enough word for what he feels right now.

 

He listens to feet running up the stairs and a door slamming right after, causing him to flinch slightly.

 

Rick shakes his head, rubbing at his beard as he paces the living room. 

 

Frustrated in himself, he decides to take a few minutes to collect his thoughts and clean up the mess he made downstairs before trying to close the wounds that he has opened up with Daryl.

 

\---

 

Once the door is firmly shut and the dresser is pressed securely against it, Daryl can begin to breathe again. He wipes furiously at his eyes, smudging the tears onto his skin like ink.

 

Who was he to think he was safe here?

 

Irrational terror and regret washes through him like waves, each coming on stronger and stronger as the storm gets closer.

 

Daryl has had many panic attacks before, but this takes the cake. He stands there shaking, staring at the door. Terrified Rick will come in any second and hurt him. His arms fold against him as he considers curling up into a ball on the floor, until the urge to flee conquers all other thoughts.

 

Without hesitation Daryl rushes towards the window and once he has the screen off the window the smell of fresh rain hits him like a brick.

 

He discards the plastic mesh by his feet and sticks his head out of the window trying to estimate the drop down. It doesn’t help that the sun is almost setting and the wet ground below looks like a endless hole.

 

Without second thought, Daryl grips the edge of the window and pulls himself up and over. Looking down he has forgotten about his fear of heights and it almost causes him to crawl back inside until his foot slips from the wetness.

 

With seconds to spare he regains his balance and after a few more breaths he slides onto the side of the house, his feet searching for anything. Fingers going white as he struggles to hold his own weight.

 

Unfortunately there isn’t anything for his feet so he takes a deep breath in and lets go, praying the ground isn’t too hard.

 

Daryl lets out a pained yelp as he crashes to the ground, landing on his back. Thankful the rain is loud enough to muffle out his cries.

 

The fall wasn’t much, less than ten feet at least. He pats at his body quickly feeling for any broken bones.

 

Once he realizes he is okay, he takes a scan around him, his arms wrapping around his body as a cold breeze washes over him. Trying to determine which direction is back home, back to his brother.

 

Daryl fucked up his only chance here, Rick hates him and would be happy if he just left.

 

The tears begin to fall again, but Daryl isn’t sure what is tears or rain that hits his face.

 

After his first few steps he begins to run, not looking back or really caring what way he goes.

 

Anywhere is better than here.

 

Running further on the road, Daryl can feel his bare feet getting cut from rocks and whatever else, but doesn’t stop. He pushes himself to go further and further until his lungs burn, causing him to stop gasping for air.

 

He stands there hunched over in the middle of a dark lonely road. 

 

Sandwiched between thick forest and darkness. Storm clouds up above rarely opening, letting little to no moonlight out to guide him.

 

Daryl isn’t one to be scared of the dark, he is more scared of the unknown that lurks in the darkness.

 

The rain hasn’t let up, only has gotten worse. The clothes on his skin stick uncomfortably no matter how many times he pulls at them.

 

When a cold chill ruins deeply in his spine, is when he realizes he is no longer high. The support of a friend is gone and he is completely, utterly alone.

 

Daryl lets out a whimper, lips shivering as he tries to bite back the urge to scream. The realization that this is the first time in years he has been outside hits so hard causing his knees to almost buckle.

 

He has no idea where he is and just wants to be back with Merle, back to the shitty club he has learned to call home.

 

After a few more laboured breaths Daryl begins to walk further along the road, not caring about the panic that is trying to crawl up his throat or the wet clothes that stick uncomfortably to his flesh like another layer of skin.

 

\---

 

Once the glass is swept and the coffee is wiped up, Rick washes his hands in the kitchen sink trying to think of what to say to Daryl.

 

The walk up the stairs is long and torturous. He knows what he did was wrong, but would Daryl even accept his apology.

 

Letting out a sigh he brings his hand up and gives the door a quick knock.

 

“Daryl... listen... I just want to apologize.”

 

Silence.

 

“May I come in?”

 

Rick scratches at the back of his neck.

 

With still no reply, he begins to get restless and worried. He knocks again, but a lot harder this time.

 

“Daryl?”

 

He asks franticly, instantly thinking the worst and without waiting for a reply he shoves the door open.

 

The dresser scraps across the hardwood floor causing Rick to cringe slightly, until one scan of the room his breath gets stuck in his throat.

 

Daryl is no where to be seen and the open window is enough to give Rick a heart attack.

 

Rick rushes to the window and sticks his head out, trying to scan the blacked out yard for any movement, but it’s useless.

 

“Fuck!”

 

Slips out of Rick’s lips as he slams his open palm against the window frame. Seconds later he is running down the stairs and practically throwing on his boots as he staggers out his front door, not even bothering to grab his coat or lock the door behind him.

 

“Daryl!”

 

Rick yells in his driveway, rain bouncing angrily off his face as he strides quickly beside his car. This is all his fault that Daryl is out in the storm without a coat or shoes.

 

Hopping into his car in one fluid motion and starting up the engine feels like a decade goes by as he pulls out of his property, mumbling to himself how much he fucked up.

 

Daryl couldn’t have gone too far, Rick wasn’t down stairs more than twenty minutes. The only problem is figuring out what direction the young man went.

 

Rick sits in his car tapping the steering wheel anxiously at the cross road at the end of his driveway, unsure of what way to go. 

 

Something deep down is urging him to go right, so he takes a deep breath and tries to trust his gut. The windshield wipers motioning back and forth, washing away the rain that’s heavily falling at this point. 

 

\---

 

Clothes soaked all the way through, bare feet scratched all to Hell, and long wet hair sticks uncomfortably to his face. Large droplets of water falling into his eyes reminding him every so often as of what has just happen.

 

The shivering deep within his bones and chattering of his teeth has worsened, but hypothermia isn’t a concern.

 

He looked forward to be wrapped up in Death’s sweet embrace, even though he didn’t imagine this would be the way he’d go.

 

Always thought he’d OD in his poor excuse of a bedroom and his brother would be the one to find his body.

 

Instead he’s going to die on a stupid lonely road and let alone fucking sober...

 

Daryl chuckles slightly, his breath falling out of his lips creating smoke through the rain that falls around him.

 

Sighing heavily, his thoughts becoming a hazy mess. The shivering stops after a few more minutes and Daryl knowing all about survival, ignores the dangerous symptom.

 

If he is gonna go, he’s gonna go calmly. This was something he always wanted...

 

Right?...

 

\---

 

“Daryl... where are you!”

 

Rick adjusts in his car seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other pushing his curly hair back every few seconds or so, nervous habits die hard.

 

Eyes hardly blinking, trying to see every inch of the asphalt and beside it.

 

He wants so badly to speed down this familiar road, but knows driving fast won’t help either of them right now. Headlights shine brightly on the road and the edges of the woods that surround him.

 

Praying that Daryl went this direction and didn’t go into the forest.

 

Minutes pass by so slowly, making seconds feel like years.

 

Rick considers turning the car around until something in the distance catches his eyes. Speeding and trying to keep his heart down in his chest, endless thoughts taking over his mind.

 

Once closer he slows down trying to examine the walking figure in front of him in the pouring rain.

 

“Oh, thank God!”

 

Rick mumbles to himself as he turns down the headlights and holds back the urge to hit the car horn, that would only make things worse and scare Daryl off.

 

Daryl must know he is near though, Rick’s not even fifteen feet behind him now, but the young man keeps his head down and keeps staggering along the road.

 

Slowly and carefully Rick swerves around him, and with a easy push of a button the windows go down.

 

“Daryl!”

 

Rick yells out into the rain, noticing the surprise in Daryl’s eyes and the small noticeable jump. He thought he knew the car was near, but that right there tells Rick how bad things might really be.

 

Halting the car to a quick stop causes the breaks to squeal and Rick is very thankful that Daryl doesn’t run into the woods as he jumps out of the car not bothering to shut his door.

 

Daryl stops as soon as the car stops and watches Rick run up to him with the same look in his eyes when they first met.

 

“I’m figggghhenn-...”

 

Daryl slurs distortedly, he tried to say he was fine. Frustrated and confused he begins to cry again, hugging his body tightly. He no longer felt cold, but it seemed to somewhat help the inner pain.

 

“Dare, we gotta get you inside.”

 

Rick chokes out, trying his best to hold back his tears. Daryl looked so sad standing there in the middle of the road soaking wet and crying.

 

All because of him.

 

He promised himself nobody else would suffer because of him...

 

Rick reaches out his shaky hands slowly and rests against Daryl’s wet muddy arms. Surprised the other doesn’t flinch or pull away, instead lets him lead him into the passenger seat of the warm car.

 

As soon as Rick is back into his car he locks the doors, he just got Daryl back. He’s not losing him again.

 

Clicking the light on above them both gives Rick a better look at Daryl, who flinches from the bright light in his eyes.

 

Once pink lips are now purple hues, cheeks flushed red and covered head to toe in mud. Rick knows he is showing symptoms of mild hypothermia and knows if he doesn’t warm Daryl soon, this could turn into severe hypothermia.

 

Turning up the heat as high as it can go and his arm searching the back seat for anything to cover Daryl up with.

 

Finding a heavy sweater he figures it’s good enough for now and throws it gently onto Daryl, who stares at him confused and tries to push it off.

 

“Don...t...”

 

“Daryl, you need it. Please just take it.”

 

There’s Rick again with his sad eyes and Daryl takes the sweater back and puts it on his lap. Bewildered why he needed it, he felt fine other than the confusion of everything. He just assumes he is high again and has forgotten when he popped some.

 

The car does a u-turn so quickly before Daryl can ask what’s going on. 

 

He can hear Rick talking to him, but he ignores him as he stares out the window. Tired, he watches the dark trees around him fade into black blobs, lulling him to sleep until warm strong hands shake him awake.

 

“You need to stay awake!”

 

Daryl lets out a pathetic snarl and lets his head bounce off the glass when he drops it in a comfortable spot, ignoring the talking and shaking.

 

He can a faint voice yelling his name, but it sounds more like a whisper echoing through a tunnel.

 

Then it all stops and his vision goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday last chapter! :)


	11. Whispers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to personally apologize for everyone whose been waiting over a year for me to update this.
> 
> ~This story will be listed as completed for now, but in the future I plan on writing more. I have much more planned, I just need time to write it.~
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3

“DARYL! Stay awake!”

 

Shouts Rick as he shakes the unconscious man beside him, panic cracks his voice.

 

“Shit!”

 

Rick punches the steering wheel, the honk blending in with the rain that’s heavily pouring outside the vehicle. 

 

Reaching over quickly with his eyes still on the road, he rests two fingers against Daryl’s cold neck searching for a pulse.

 

“Oh, thank God...”

 

Rick mumbles as he presses down harder on the gas.

 

Not too much longer he is pulling into the driveway, trying to shake the other awake again as he drives up to the house.

 

There’s no use.

 

Turning off his car and rushing to Daryl’s side of the vehicle causes him to almost slip from the mud as he yanks the open the door. He catches Daryl just before he falls out, but lifting him is a whole other story.

 

Rick had somewhat of a issue getting Daryl out of the club the other night, but he wasn’t wet and freezing to death in that moment.

 

One arm around his waist and the other around his shoulder, Rick heaves him up and out of the car, thankful when Daryl’s eyes flutter open.

 

“Ri...?”

 

Daryl can hardly speak, his lips purple and chapped.

 

“Ya Dare, it’s me. Can you walk?”

 

As soon as he asks the weight becomes a little lighter, but Daryl slumps over instantly.

 

“Take it easy... I got you.”

 

Rick whispers gently into the other’s ear, causing the younger man to nod as he tries to help Rick lead him into the house.

 

\---

 

Daryl wakes up in a startle as his shirt begins to get ripped off in a haste, assuming he blacked out because he realizes he’s now in the bathroom upstairs propped up on top of the toilet seat lid.

 

“Don’t...”

 

Is all the younger man is able to mumble out as his wet shirt falls to the floor with a loud slap. His arms coming up to huddle in on himself, either trying to stay warm or hide his body.

 

“Dare... I’m so sorry, but we have to...”

 

Rick sighs, trying not to liger on the other’s frame. Daryl has muscle, but it looked more natural than worked out. Broad shoulders and a small waist. No wonder he made so much money at the club, his body is very feminine and near perfect. Plus it also doesn’t help that Daryl has very pretty facial features.

 

He quickly shakes those thoughts away, now isn’t the time.

 

“I need to stand you up, I have to take off your-”

 

“No.”

 

Daryl slurs, interrupting Rick. Tears prickling his lashes, threatening to spill. He begins to shiver again, huddling in on himself tighter. He turns slightly away from Rick, but doesn’t try to get up.

 

“We need-”

 

“No... please.”

 

Within seconds Daryl’s tears start falling and this causes Rick’s heart to drop as well. 

 

“Daryl, I’m not here to hurt you...”

 

Rick tilts his head to be eye level with Daryl, slowly he brings out his hand to show him that there is no threat.

 

He hates seeing Daryl cry, especially when it’s his fault.

 

“Please don’t cry...”

 

The officer whispers gently, slowly bringing his hand up to Daryl’s dirty, icy cheek and the other falling softly on his wet knee.

 

Daryl flinches heavily, but doesn’t push away the uninvited hands. Something about them feel different, something he isn’t used to.

 

The tears don’t stop though, but eventually he leans slowly into Rick’s warm palm. A rough thumb wiping away a stray droplet causing Daryl’s eyes to flutter shut until Rick gently shakes his knee, trying to keep him awake.

 

“We need you to get you into the tub.”

 

Daryl nods slightly, not fully understanding what was being said to him, just enjoying Rick’s warm touch.

 

Letting out a soft whimper once it’s taken from him and the same hands lift him up with a great struggle as he lifts him and tries to set Daryl into the hot water.

 

Daryl yelps at the sensation and his finger digs into Rick’s arms, trying to fight and get out, but Rick is stronger and has him pinned as he struggles in the tub. Water splashing onto the floor and walls, Rick’s half soaked at this point as well as he whispers gentle words to Daryl who eventually gives up the fight and relaxes.

 

Once he feels like the other isn’t about to flee, Rick removes his deathly grip and rests against the tubs edge. Trying to catch his breath as he runs wet hands through his own messy hair.

 

He then reaches over to Daryl and does the same, Daryl flinches as a hand brushes the hair out of his eyes. Daryl looks like he’s about to pass out soon so Rick hurries up with the bath. Grabbing a wash cloth and dips it into the already murky water, wrings it out, and begins gently wiping the mud off Daryl.

 

Starting with his feet, cringing slightly at the bloody, torn up mess from the hard cement road. He’ll deal with that later. Then gently scrubs at his arms, hands, in between fingers and under short finger nails. 

 

Once he gets to Daryl’s face he can see the other is staring at him, sad eyes locked with his. Rick swallows the nerves down and puts the wet cloth against Daryl’s cheek.

 

Wiping away the mud and rain. Rick can’t help himself and stops half way through to brush another finger against Daryl’s flushed cheek. Guiltily admiring the other’s beauty, Daryl looks so heartbroken and confused, but yet so beautiful at the same time and it has Rick confused to the high heavens. 

 

They haven’t broken eye contact yet and either of them seem too eager to.

 

“Dare...”

 

Rick whispers gently, his finger on his cheek ends up becoming his whole hand then the other hand, before he knows it, he’s cupping Daryl’s face.

 

“I’m really fucking sorry, baby...”

 

The older man mutters as a single tear rolls down his face, the nickname just coming naturally and ignores it, it’s how he feels in this moment.

 

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, ever! I can’t lose anyone else!”

 

Shaking the other’s face softly, just hoping he understands what he is saying. Daryl’s looking at him, nodding ever so slightly as his own hands come up and wrap around the large hands on his face. Giving a tight quick squeeze.

 

Taking it as forgiveness, Rick leans over the tub without thinking and places a delicate kiss to Daryl’s temple.

 

They don’t speak or look at each other for the rest of the bath, Rick cleans and dries Daryl the best he can with pants on, finally relaxing as Daryl stops shivering and starts acting more human.

 

Rick leaves for a second then comes back with a clean pair of clothes, he leaves them on the sink counter before helping the now tired man out of the tub, which is much easier than putting him in, surprisingly.

 

“Do you need help to get dressed?”

 

Rick asks feeling a bit awkward, scratching the back of his neck.

 

Daryl shakes his head slowly. He’s already feeling a little better, he doesn’t need help getting clothes on.

 

Once Rick is out of the bathroom and searching for the first aid kit, he can hear Daryl shuffling around as he struggles with the clothes, Daryl regretted saying no.

 

After a few knocks, Rick stands there with his hand on the door handle ready to go in and help the poor guy out. Just as he turns the handle Daryl opens the door, looking up at Rick dazed and so sleepy.

 

His hair a damp mess, small pieces of mud still cling to a few strands that Rick missed, the shirt sits a little too big and slightly falls off one shoulder, and the pants sit just below the hips, showing some flesh. Rick has to force his eyes to stay on Daryl’s eyes.

 

“Come one, I’ll put you in bed and clean up your feet...”

 

Rick gets close and wraps a strong arm against Daryl’s lower back to help lead him, but the limping and whimpers worry him.

 

“Here, let me carry you.”

 

Handing Daryl the first aid kit, getting ready to pick him up bridal style, but the younger looks at at him terrified and in pain.

 

“You-your bed?”

 

Daryl stutters slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. He honestly didn’t want to sleep in the other bed tonight...

 

Didn’t want to sleep alone.

 

Taken aback, Rick ponders about it for a few seconds then nods, he’ll just sleep on the couch. He watches the other’s eyes light up a tiny bit, but it quickly fades once he takes another step.

 

Through a hiss of pain, Daryl reaches out for Rick’s arm for support. Rick is very tempted to pick up the smaller man, but wouldn’t want to scare him right now.

 

So they take their time going a few more steps down the hallway and then into Rick’s room, turning on the lamp before he eases Daryl into the bed and under the blankets, with only his feet poking out.

 

Rick sits at the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other as he examines the bottoms of Daryl’s feet. Which isn’t that easy because he almost got a heel to the face once he grabbed them without warning the other first.

 

The first few layers are torn, the right foot is the worst, there is slight bleeding from cuts and scraps, and a few pieces of dirt, tiny stones, and grass he couldn’t get out just by washing.

 

“Dare, I’m gonna have to use tweezers to pull the debris out, or it’ll get infected.”

 

Daryl shakes his head quickly, his eyes and nose just peeking out from under the blanket, Rick can’t help smiling with how adorable the stubborn guy is.

 

“Baby....”

 

There’s the nickname again, but either of them are fazed by it. Except for Daryl, it gave him crazy butterflies and he threw the blanket over his face to cover up the blush that is threatening to appear.

 

Daryl shook his foot towards Rick, silently agreeing to what needs to happen, the sooner it’s done, the sooner he’ll be able to go to sleep.

 

With the first aid kits tweezers and flashlight in his nightstand drawer resting on the bed for better light, Rick carefully picks out the dirt and tiny stones. Every once in awhile Daryl will whimper and Rick will stop to rub gently at his leg, whispering words of encouragement.

 

Before he knows it, his feet are clean and bandaged. Daryl peeks his head out of the blanket, half asleep and stares at the other. Feeling oddly comfortable as Rick stands there and watches as he fades in and out of sleep. His eyes stay shut until the clicking of the flashlight turning off wakes him up, causing him to jump slightly.

 

“It’s just me...”

 

Rick smiles, putting away the flashlight and then rubs at Daryl’s blanketed chest. He’s about to walk away until a shaky hand wraps around his arm, halting him in his steps.

 

“You need your bag?”

 

Daryl shakes his head sleepily, even though he’d love a good painkiller right now, but that’s not what he needs...

 

What he wants.

 

“Glass of water?”

 

“You...”

 

Daryl mumbles under his breath, his blue eyes hiding behind his long hair, shifting them to the other side of the room, too scared to see the disgust in Rick’s eyes. He’s about to change his mind and say something else because the silence is too much for him to handle, but then Rick nods.

 

“Let me change first...”

 

Rick digs around his dresser for some pjs, he needs to do laundry soon. He gets out of the wet, muddy clothes he’s wearing and quickly dresses into something clean, his back to Daryl the whole time.

 

The younger man is already asleep, but is pulled from his slumber once again as Rick slowly crawls into the bed, tucking himself under the soft blanket. He’s on his side, arm tucked under his pillow facing towards Daryl, whom is on their back slightly facing Rick.

 

Rick silently watches Daryl figh his sleep, thick eye lashes flutter shut then opening every so often.

 

“Dare, just go to sleep, I’ll be here in the morning.”

 

The older man whispers, slightly lifting himself up and atop Daryl, reaching over and turning off the lamp. Rick looks down naturally and catches eyes with Daryl, blue orbs alert and staring back.

 

Rick is about to lay back down, but the feeling of Daryl’s hand resting on his arm has his head spinning, causing his breath to get stuck in his lungs as he stays still, unsure of what to do next.

 

Seconds feel like hours, both of their hearts beating way too quick as they stay like this for what feels like an eternity. Daryl licks his lips and it has Rick shivering.

 

“Dar-”

 

The whisper is cut short once Rick feels Daryl’s lips brush against his, first they miss, but Rick helps guide the younger man. It’s gentle and unsure, but neither of them pull away.

 

Daryl can’t believe what he is doing, but he knows it just feels right. Rick makes him feel something he’s never felt before and he wants the other to know how grateful he is for everything he’s done. He never imagined he’d ever kiss someone in this lifetime, let alone another man.

 

Their chests rest close until Rick pulls away first, bringing a hand up to the side of Daryl’s face to brush a finger across the beauty mark above his lip. This causes the other to smile softly and close his eyes enjoying the touch.

 

Rick places another quick kiss on Daryl’s lips before he rolls back onto his own side, heart beating so fast it threatens to come up his throat. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, wondering what just happened and if he should say anything.

 

He’s about to try to say something, but Daryl rolls over slightly and rests against Rick’s chest. Nuzzling into his warmth, and letting out a sigh once he feels comfortable.

 

Feels safe...

 

Rick wraps an arm around Daryl’s back and pulls him closer. He honestly has no idea what the fuck he is doing, but it just feels natural and that confuses so much. Tilting his head down a bit, he places another kiss onto Daryl’s head, letting his lips linger before pulling away and closing his eyes.

 

In the quiet room, Rick lets out a heavy relaxed sigh, his whispers cutting the silence.

 

“Welcome home, Daryl...”


End file.
